


What could have been

by Doublerumnukacola



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, F/M, Humor, Interrogation, Intimidating male figure, Psychological Horror, Some Fluff, Those beginning tags make this seem a lot worse than it is, Torture, Violence, alternate take on my main series might introduce into my main story, anger issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2020-11-08 09:37:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20833313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doublerumnukacola/pseuds/Doublerumnukacola
Summary: Sole hasn't long found out she isn't who she thought she was. To top it off, she's missing great swathes of her memory. She's done some terrible things during her time in the Institute, but burning to the ground make up for it, right?(This was something I was working on but decided to take my main story in a different direction, but I really loved these bits so I thought I would post them as a quick shot of angst. I might add a happy ending)





	1. Bowling for Liquid Nutrition Packets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is from my other fic, but it adds some character to X6 that I felt it was lacking. It also gives a bit more context. Sorry for the poor formatting on this chapter :( but at least you can skip this if you have already read the original fic!

_ **Day 1** _

Crisp, clean sheets enveloped her limbs. Soft mattress beneath her. Everything was dark. 

_‘Open my eyes…’ _ The thought crossed her mind. It took a moment before her eyelids fluttered open. _‘Hospital…?’ _She wondered, looking around the plain, but clean room. It smelled like sanitiser and plastic. It reminded her of when she’d been in the recovery room after having Shaun. Shaun._ ‘Shaun!’_ She sat up bolt upright, looking around. Where was he? Where was her baby? There was no cot nearby. _‘Nate… He’s with Nate.’ _ She remembered, relaxing again against the bed. She chuckled at herself. Shaun was two now, she didn’t need to worry so much._ ‘No, wait.. Shaun is… Shaun is ten now…’ _The thought occurred to her. No that couldn’t be right. He’s two. He just turned a few months ago… 

She rubbed her forehead, something was wrong. She could remember his second birthday so clearly, he’d eaten a whole box of snack cakes and threw up on her Mother-in law. But she could remember him older, standing tall. He had Nate’s nose and chin, but he had her eyes… How old was her baby? 

Then the door to her room opened, revealing an older man in a white coat. Obviously her Doctor.

She sat up a bit, putting on a smile that hid she was falling apart.

“Hello, how are you feeling today?” He asked with a cheerful smile, coming to sit on a comfortable chair at her bedside. 

“I’m feeling… Ok…” She started, a little unsure. “Some things are a little hazy though…” He chuckled and nodded.

“That’s to be expected, what is the last thing you can remember?” He asked with a reassuring smile that reminded her of her Grandfathers. She thought back. She and Nate had been making Halloween plans, Codsworth was in the living room, Shaun was in his cotbed… But how could he? He was ten. The last time she saw him had been standing in the living room, but not their living room. Her head started to ache again. She was forgetting something.

“My baby…” She started, closing her eyes, trying to remember. “I remember him, standing- no, sitting. He’s in a living room with-” _‘Sitting with Kellogg.’ _Her stomach dropped. Her baby was with Kellogg. The man who killed- ‘Nate is dead’. She could remember now, seeing his body across from her, bullet straight to the head. 

This was no hospital.

“Where am I?” She asked coldly, opening her eyes. “What did you do to me?” The Doctor’s smile fell to a grave expression. He let out a deep sigh. 

“You are in the Institute. You passed out shortly after relaying here.” It sounded about right. The Institute had her son. It had been her goal from the beginning. How she’d ended up here hardly mattered. 

“Where’s Shaun?” She demanded, leveling her most withering glare at the man. He gave a small, sad smile. 

“Well, you did meet briefly, before you passed out.” The man explained. “It was impressive that you made it as far as you did before…” He shook his head. “The Shaun you saw as a ten year old boy, was not the real Shaun.” 

“So, my baby…” She leant forward, hopeful she might still get the chance to watch him grow up. 

“Your son is no longer a child.” The man replied, almost apologetically. “I’m afraid there was more than eight years between the day your son was taken, and the day you left the vault…”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been too long since she last showered. The hot water washed over her in a blissful way, she breathed in the steam that rose from the shower floor and sighed. The small pleasure helped her cope with the torrent of bad news she’d just recieved.

She reached for a clear plastic bottle of pink liquid, popping the top off and taking a sniff. It smelled like Vanilla frosting. There were no labels, so it would have to do as combination shampoo and bodywash. The gel spurted into her hand and she replaced the bottle before massaging it into her hair. There was a lot less dirt flowing down the drain than she would have thought. Maybe they bathed her while she was out cold.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath of the vanilla scent twisting it’s way into the steam. She started to softly hum. It suddenly felt as though no time had passed at all, and she was back standing in her old home. Codsworth was outside changing Shaun, Nate was drinking coffee in the kitchen… The bullet hole in his head leaking blood on the counter… She rubbed her eyes, trying to massage away the image. She couldn’t think about that. She’d killed Kellogg, she’d avenged him. She felt the weight of all the dried blood and grime that had weighed her down vanish as it was washed away. 

Something in her, something broken and selfish, was relieved. She was relieved Shaun had lived his life here. There was no denying she felt sick at all the time she had missed, but she was happy that he had lived in the safety of the Institute. The alternative was living in the Wasteland, where he wouldn’t have even lived to be sixty. 

He got to grow up with everything she could have wished for. Food, shelter, even an education. Not to mention luxuries like hot running water, toilet paper, and clean clothes.

She even entertained the idea of staying. Living here underground. Maybe overtime she could manifest change, create the better future they wanted without losing innocent lives. She could get to know her own son…

Maybe this was what she had been meant to do all along….

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

_ **Day 2** _

The Institute was a stark contrast to the wasteland. The whole experience didn’t seem real, her memories of the surface already seemed like a hazy dream. Bits and pieces seemed to drift in and out of her, but every time she tried to recall things, the details slipped away from her. It didn’t matter, she was here now.

Sole walked down the brightly lit halls, over the spotless tile floors. Everyone greeted her with a smile, saying how proud she must be of ‘Father’. That was his name here. Her little boy was the leader of an incredible institution. She came to rest on a bench in the main lobby, watching the water features cascade, smelling the well kept lawn and foliage nearby. 

This was paradise. The people here were working on projects that would revolutionize the world. Not to mention, she never had to go without toilet paper again. It almost made up for everything it took to get there… Almost..

_I...I woke up. I saw them take you. I couldn't stop them. I couldn't do anything…_

_ I'm sorry. I really am. _

She shook the conversation with her son from her mind. It didn't matter. She was here now. She had her son. She had a life. What else could she want? It could be just like it was before, maybe even better.

The lights dimmed overhead, simulating evening. People would be turning in now, others would be burning the midnight oil in their labs. The lobby was starting to clear out. She had a feeling there was something she needed to do but she brushed the thought away. It was about time she took a break. 

It was just her and a few others in the lobby now. Just people working on the makeshift garden, sweeping the floors… Her stomach twisted. Not people. Synths, the ones she was supposed to save. _No, don’t think about it. Don’t think about- Shit I’m thinking about it. _ She stood up, polite smiles to the synths. Her _Grandchildren_. That was difficult to handle. 

She’d feel better after some sleep, right? Of course she would. Her footsteps were hurried over the tiled floor, making her way to Father’s quarters where she could crash on the couch. She just needed to cut past the Robotics lab- 

“Any news on phase four?” A voice asked around the corner. She stopped just short of the wall, she didn’t want to have to make conversation with any researchers right then.

“Father’s keeping it pretty under wraps, but at least we know the prototypes are functional, so far anyway.” 

“Shame about the kid, that’s going to be a lot of sleepless night in Advanced systems sorting out that software.” _ There’s more than one fake Shaun? What, was her son trying to make an army of children?_

“It’ll be easier when we have more direct access like the other one.” _Direct access?_

“Anyway, gotta get back to the lab, sooner I work out these formulas, the sooner we can reschedule that date night.” There was a giggle, and that was her cue to back away slowly and get out of there. Back pedaling down the hall, she tried to ignore what they were saying. I mean, it wasn’t a big deal right? Synths were safer here than up there. They were happier here. 

She would be happier here…

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

_ **Day 3** _

She had her own room now, and all it cost her was the low _low _price of someone else’s freedom. She sat on her bed. Her bed. Not a janky cot that had springs cutting into her, covered in piss and blood. An actual, clean bed. And all it cost was taking in the trash. That’s what that guy was. Trash. He was a raider, ruthless and merciless. 

She’d done it all within spitting distance of the Castle.

No one would recognize her of course, she upgraded to full synth armor, complete with a helmet that left _everything_ to the imagination. 

What mattered is she could keep busy, but maybe not with that courser, X6-88. It was like gunning down raiders with a particularly malicious calculator. Maybe next time she could do the dirty work with someone a little less static. 

The room had a shower, a toilet, and a desk. She could get around to that novel she always meant to write. Or she could take a stroll around the labs, maybe detour through advanced systems…

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

People were always surprised when she dropped in on them, like she was meant to stay in her room and wait for assignments. _Surprise! The old lady is nosy. _

“I didn’t realize we were being graced with a visit.” Director Li scoffed, looking up from her tablet. It was refreshingly honest, the haughty disdain barely veiled. Most people here at least tried to seem polite.

“Just passing through, thought i’d get better acquainted with the technology.” Sole lied, smiling at her. 

“That’s like an amoeba saying it's getting acquainted with the microscope observing it.” She responded in annoyance. “What we are doing here is well above your comprehension.” 

“You know, the second they start handing out congeniality awards to researchers, you are a shooin.” Sole continued, glancing at the papers and diagrams that littered the lab. Her assistants had their backs turned, hiding wry smiles. 

“Sorry, I thought we were saving mankind, not competing in a popularity contest.” She shot back, putting down her tablet now. She sighed and rubbed her forehead with irritation. “Alright, what will it take to leave us alone?”

“Where’s the child synth?” Sole asked bluntly. The question knocked her back for a second, before regaining her composure.

“Has Father authorised this?” She asked cooly.

“He did mention bringing him back online so I could interact with him.” Sole answered vaguely. It wasn’t a lie, but he hadn’t exactly told her to go and do it just then. “And he did give me unfettered access to the Institute… Sooo...” Li sighed in exasperation.

“Alright, I’ll have one of my assistants fetch him.” She gave in. “What kind of ‘interaction’ did you have in mind?” Sole hadn’t exactly thought that far ahead, she just needed an excuse to be here, swipe a tablet, and get out.

“A game of catch?” Sole shrugged. Li gave her a withering look. “To, uh, test his coordination skills.” She rolled her eyes, turning back to her work and sending one of her underlings to fetch the boy. Just enough time to grab what she needed, thank god these Institute coats had inside pockets. She tensed as one of the researchers approached her, but they barely noticed her, reaching past her to grab a pack of cigarettes on the table beside her. She moved so he could reach them, and watched as he pulled one out of the pristine packet. 

“Mind sharing?” She asked casually, he shrugged and knocked another one out of the packet for her. She took it, trying to make it look natural. She’d never smoked before. 

“You know this habit could kill you.” He mentioned, holding out his lighter for her. She waved it away, still holding the cigarette.

“It might, if something else doesn't kill me first.” She shrugged back. He gave her a wary look, before shaking his head and lighting his own. He took a long drag, breathing out, and tapping ash neatly into a tray.

“So what’s your excuse?” She asked, looking around for who ever was supposed to be bringing the kid. The researcher paused, he was an older man, with salt and pepper hair, deep wrinkles set into his dark skin, and a look of general disdain. 

“Sooner these things take me, the better.” He replied bitterly. He seemed familiar, very familiar. Just then, another researcher came in with the child synth, the little kid looking unsuredly up at her. _Oh boy._ She looked back at the man, placing the cigarette back on the table. 

“Nice talking to you, Mr….?” She started, waiting for him to fill in the blank.

“**Dr.**Carrington.” He corrected her sharply. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

“What’s it like on the surface?” He asked, tossing the baseball back to Sole. They were in the lobby playing catch, casually ignoring the stares by the researchers. 

“Terrible.” Sole replied without missing a beat, and tossing the ball back. The boy caught it, stumbling forward a bit before correcting himself. “Everything smells, everything’s dirty, and nobody plays catch with you.” 

“Yeah, that’s what everybody says.” He agreed. “Except that last part. I don’t think anyone plays catch here.” He tossed the ball, but it missed its mark and fell to the ground, rolling to her feet. She picked up, fingers running over the laces. She’d always meant to do this with Shaun… Her Shaun.

“Well, people can get a little busy.” Sole explained, already readying another toss to the boy. “But the important thing is you’re safe.” She tossed the ball to him, but he missed it, scrambling down by the fountain to scoop it up. When he turned back to her, he had a puzzled look on his face. 

“Why wouldn’t I be safe?” He asked with concern. _ Oh boy, I’m really bad at this._

“Well, on the surface...” She started nervously, walking up to him. “People aren’t always... Good.” She sat on the bench by the fountain and he sat too, engrossed in her explanation. That made her more nervous. “People don’t have the things you have, they have to fight for things a lot.”

“Aren’t there any good people up there?” He asked, wide eyed. This was one sheltered 10 year old. By his age, she was already stealing snack cakes and swearing like a sailor.

“There are some good people,” She said, thinking back to her days in the Minutemen. “But they have to fight too. For every good person I met up there, I met 10 bad ones.”

“What happened to he bad ones?” He asked earnestly. _Oh boy, I am **really** bad at this._

“They, uh...” She was a little at a loss for words. “They went to jail.” _Nice save._

“Oh good.” He said in relief. “I thought you just killed them.” _This kid is going to give me a heart attack. _ “Do you do anything fun up there?”

“Uh...” Sole started, _I drank a lot. I slept around practically. Basically everything I did in college, set to the soundtrack of shotguns. _ “We had a bowling alley.”

“A what?” 

“You know a- Well you rolled giant marbles into targets on along a polished surface.” Sole explained, trying to break the game to it’s bare essentials. 

“Could we play that next time?” He asked excitedly. She put a hand on the back of her neck, letting out a breath. _Kid, I don’t think I could survive another outing like this._ She looked over at him, his eyes shining hopefully. She could see the resemblance to toddler Shaun. 

“Sure, I’ll work it out with Advanced Systems..” She promised with a smile. “We can build it from scratch, that way we can call it a learning exercise.” He smiled gleefully, practically jump and down in his seat. She was going to have a lot to answer for in Advanced Systems. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

_ **Day 4** _

She’d have to be careful about decrypting that tablet. If they noticed an unauthorized login, she might just get kicked out of this place for good. She looked down at the password system, having bypassed the usual security screens and gone straight to the console. It wasn’t as easy as going to the key log like in prewar terminals, but it wasn’t all that different. 

Scrolling through the console screen her thoughts drifted back to the dream she’d had last night. She had been dancing in a bar, a song had been playing, something achingly familiar. She wasn’t alone either, she was dancing with someone, but the person kept changing. First it had been Nate, glittering with frost, fingers burning hers with his icy touch. Then their touch warmed as the partner changed, someone unfamiliar, shimmers of brass around them. She leaned against them, a comforting warmth from them-Until it vanished. She was alone on the dance floor.

That’s when another hand appeared from the shadows. A wrinkled, mottled hand. She was hesitant, stepping back. That’s when the shadows swarmed with feral creatures, lurching for her- and she woke up. Maybe it was a good thing she didn’t remember much of her life on the surface.

The tablets password ended up being _Purity_, whatever that meant. She was inundated with log upon log of research, Data sets that meant nothing to her, and audio files of recorded notes. Her brain hurt just looking at it. She switched it off and put it back in her lab coat pocket. She could look it over later. Then there was a knock at the door. 

“Come in,” She called, sitting up on her bed. “I was just writing my memoirs for posterity.” The door slid open to reveal a Courser, a new one. Just as mean though.

“Father requests your presence.” He said, deadpan. 

“Of course, anything for Father.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

Sole was finally up to her neck in Gen 1’s and out of witty retorts. Except she was on the wrong side of them. She approached Bunker Hill with the Courser, X4-18. There were a lot of innocents in there. Railroad agents in there. She adjusted her helmet, reassuring her that she was safe. 

No one could see her. As far as they knew, she wasn’t even there… 

Except someone knew. Someone had eyes on her from the moment they relayed in front of the memorial. Some drifter, watching from the settlement walls. He watched her every movement the way she walked, the way she held her laser pistol… Ghosts were walking on hallowed ground, and they were coming for blood. 

Off further away, away from what would be a bloodbath, was a junkie making his way home. His eyes crazed, veins full of psycho, jet, Slasher… Anything he could pump into his system. He tore through anything in his path. His blood stained knife, jagged with chips, an extension of himself and his intentions... 

Further still, in Sanctuary, a man stood alone in an old house, the only stagnant land in a settlement built on regrowth. Untouched on his Generals last orders… 

For a moment, the world was still, holding its breath before the battle.

Then it coughed.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

_ **Day 5** _

Sole lay under the scalding water of the shower head, body curled up on the tiled floor. She’d been there for an hour. Her hands pruned, her skin a blistering red, her insides aching. She took a shuddering breath, before switching the water off, but even then she just lay there. The world was spinning around her. The crisp white surfaces, the soft tint of blue cast by the shower glass, all swirling down the silver drain. 

It had been nearly a week since she’d been ripped apart at the Co-Op and appeared here, and 24 hours since she learned her son was dying. 12 hours since he announced her as his successor. 1 hour since she went through the files from Advanced Systems. The dream she’d had of her old life was gone and all the optimism in the world wouldn't bring it back.

She pulled herself off the shower floor, sliding open the glass, the steam spilling out around her. She pulled down the towel on the rack above her, letting it drape upon her. She lay there, collecting herself. The events of Bunker Hill had shook her, but it was the aftershock that had her wishing they had a bar in this damn place.

She had killed RailRoad agents, retained synths, and betrayed every friend she knew. It wasn’t hard. There were many reasons that could justify it. It had certainly earned her the trust of most of the institute. But that wasn’t why she’d done it.

She swallowed down the guilt. She put a hand on the toilet seat, using it to support herself as she rose. Every motion felt laboured, every limb weighed down. She stumbled to her bed, the crisp sheets breaking her fall as she collapsed into them. 

After all that, all the blood shed in battle, she returned. She found Father on top of the C.I.T. ruins, and for a moment she felt almost at peace. Foolishly thinking this was her way back to the life she had dreamed they’d have all those months ago. But he was dying. He was dying and wished to leave everything he had to her. 

More responsibility, more eyes looking to her for answers.

And through it all, she thought she could bear it. She could could take over, make the institute something for good. Reverse the harm it had caused. But as she wandered the facility, she saw things that made her stomach turn. She heard things, things that tore at her insides. And she uncovered things, things that left her as this wreck. 

To fix all that she had done, she would have to let go of everything she was and had ever wanted. The woman she was, was dead. She had died the moment her husband was shot and her son taken. She died again when she came to the Institute, supposedly reborn into the life she always wanted. She would need to embrace those deaths now, become someone who could do what those women could not.

She took a steadying breath, sitting up. She would be a model member of the institute. She would do what needed doing. She would gain allies, turn hearts to her cause. She would burn this place down, one person at a time if she had to. But it would burn.

She slipped off the bed, reaching for her institute uniform, but paused. Was it really the most efficient armor? Perhaps she could improve upon the design, as well as her weapons. Everything needed an upgrade. Including the company she kept.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ma’am.” X6-88 greeted her. He stood stoically by Father’s door. It was his preferred post in the institute, when he wasn't in the field retrieving synths or needed at the SRB. She had begrudgingly worked with him to retrieve a synth when she first arrived. He’d proven useful, and reliable. Unlike X4-18, who had been irritatingly unhelpful. Not to mention rude.

“Good evening, X6.” She greeted back politely. He examined her carefully, noticing the shift in demeanor, and approving of it. “I have have an assignment for you.” 

“What director does this assignment originate?” He inquired. 

“Only myself.” She replied. “I require your aid in completing some missions on the surface.” There was a pause.

“I was under the impression you did not require aid. Especially mine. You made it abundantly clear.” He answered evenly, but with the faintest edge of annoyance. 

“That was an error on my part.” Sole admitted. “It wasn't that I over estimated my own ability, but that I overestimated the other Coursers. You were by far the most reliable, and it was only my ignorance that led to dismissing you.” That was the closest thing to an apology he had ever received. And though he was not swayed by flattery, it didn’t hurt her cause at all. 

“Your explanation was unnecessary.” X6 said, “My protocol does not allow me to leave my duties to the SRB.”

“Do you believe your duty is to protect the institute and it's future?” She queried. 

“My belief is not relevant. That **is** my duty.” He responded, an almost fierce edge to his voice.

“Does that include activities outside of Synth Retention?” She pressed.

“It can, if the situation requires it.”

“Then this is not in any conflict with your duties, the situation very much requires it.”

“Very well, Ma’am. Would you at least enlighten me to the task?”

“Threat elimination.”

They were stopped in the hall on their way to Advanced systems, Sole had been promised improvements on her armor.

“Your presence is requested with Father, Ma’am.” A familiar Courser announced to her, halting her in path through the corridor. She really didn't like X4-18. It seemed the feeling was mutual, as the title at the end seemed a tacked on after thought rather than a sign of respect. 

“Thank you, uh, X3 right? I’ll be right over.” She replied with a polite nod, already heading towards the directors office. The courser bristled at the name, watching her leave with a heated glare she could feel in the back of her head.

“Ma’am, that was X4-18 you addressed.” X6-88 corrected her.

“I knew who it was.” She responded curtly. There was a puzzled silence. Sole glanced at him as she explained. “If you confuse someone's designation, it shows you don’t care to remember their name, you have no strong feelings about them one way or another. It is what pre-war types call a ‘power move’.”

“So you wanted to make a show of dominance to X4-18 to establish authority?” X6 clarified.

“Yes. Also, I hate him.” She added under her breath.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

They all sat around the conference table, X6 hanging back behind Sole at her request. She clasped her hands together on the table, impatient for the meeting to end. Finally, Justin Ayo stood and cleared his throat, a smug smile on his face.

“This morning, reports came in that the Railroad has been wiped out by the Brotherhood of Steel.” He announced. There was a shocked silence, then a slow applause. Words of praise, congratulations. Sole waited to hear more, but Ayo simply sat back down, smug smile still on his face. The other Directors didn’t seem to care, they were too busy patting each other on the back.

_‘Finally, vermin taking care of vermin.’_

_‘One less problem to waste resources on.’_

_‘About time.’_

Sole Was silent, anger boiling up through her. 

“Mother, are you alright?” Father asked, more out of curiosity than concern. She looked up at the others, standing up. 

“You are all idiots.” She spat coldly. The smiles around the room became annoyed frowns. 

“Care to elaborate?” Father pressed. She took a calming breath. 

“You are treating this like a success of some kind.” She replied, keeping her tone even. “You haven't said how many were killed, how many were captured, how many **escaped**!”

“Well, later scavenging of the sight found at least two bodies…” Ayo answered tentatively. 

“Oh my mistake!” Sole laughed. “I forgot the Railroad was comprised of just two people.” There was an uncomfortable silence. She continued darkly. “But while you celebrate, the Brotherhood of Steel advances. An organisation that has had a presence in the Commonwealth for little over a month found the thorn in your side you’ve been trying to remove for nearly forty years. Oh but don’t let that put a damper on your celebration. I’m sure it will take them at least a few more weeks until they reach _you_.” The annoyance on the others faces turned to concern. Ayo was subtly shrinking back in his chair.

“What do you suggest?” Father asked gravely. 

“Place charges on the BOS flagship, then step back and watch the fireworks.” Sole replied. There were somber murmurs of agreement. “If it was possible to broker peace, I would suggest it, they could be a powerful ally, but their views are at such odds with our own, it would be foolish to consider it.” 

“Well if you are volunteering.” Ayo joked. 

“I am.” Sole replied coldly, much to his irritation. 

“If you believe that is wise…” Father agreed solemnly. 

“Wise? No. But necessary.” 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ma’am, about your outburst to the directors….” X6 started as they were stripping BOS soldiers of their uniforms.They had just found a patrol near C.I.T and had strategically picked them off from the ruins. “Was this another ‘power move’?” 

“Yes. I don’t tolerate fools lightly. Especially not smug ones.” 

“I wouldn’t classify any of the Directors as ‘fools’, but the call for immediate action was… Refreshing.” X6 commented, chastisement turning to reluctant appreciation. Sole ignored the remark and quietly observed the choice of disguises they had at hand. There was a female scribe’s uniform that would fit her, mostly blood free. However, X6 would have to use the power armour as none of the other uniforms would fit him. It was probably for the best, he’d blend in better with Power Armor.

“What’s your best Brotherhood Knight impression?” Sole asked jokingly, looking down at the set of BOS power armor. It was in pretty good condition, despite its previous owner leaking bodily fluids inside it. It was going to be a pain getting the mechanism on the frame to release the occupant. 

“Ad Victoriam, Initiate!” X6 announced suddenly, she jumped, whipping around to face him. His stoic expression didn’t change in the slightest. “Was that a sufficient impersonation?” 

“Not bad,” Sole noted. “But I haven't heard you mention abominations yet.” He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders a bit.

“I’d kill a hundred abominations for Elder Maxson! Ad Victoriam!” He tried again, his voice even taking on some character, in stark contrast to his usual monotone. She nodded I'm approval, holding back a laugh. 

“Nice addition. If we get stopped, it might take them a whole five seconds to figure us out.” She commended him. “Hopefully that's all the time we’ll need to zap on deck and zap back.”

“I think you are fundamentally misunderstanding the limits of the Institute relay system.” X6 observed with concern.

“Plan B is hijacking a Vertibird and managing to fly it up there.” She explained. “How are you with rocking aircraft and heights?” There was a calculated pause.

“I may have been too quick to dismiss your previous suggestion.” He admitted. “My improvisation does not extend to the ability to control aircraft.” The faintest twitch of a smile flashed on his face. She grinned at him.

“Was that… A joke?” She asked curiously, looking over at him. He was silent. Maybe she should list stripping corpses as an institute bonding exercise. She shook her head with a smile and returned to examining the BOS power armor. Sole supposed that if she removed a few pieces from the torso and arm, she could maybe reach in and hit the release. It’d been so long since she’d been in Power Armor she could barely remember how to handle them. Then it would need to be cleaned… She groaned and sat on a crumbled wall. This was going to be harder than she’d thought. 

“Is there something wrong, Ma’am?” X6 inquired glancing down at her while keeping an eye out for other BOS patrols. 

“Just trying to figure out the best way to open this tin can without damaging the important stuff.” She explained, nudging the body with her foot. “And then there's the matter of the viscera leaking all over it… I’d rather you not have to deal with corpse smell while using this thing.”

“Your concern is unnecessary.” He said, eyes still fixed on the horizon, scanning their perimeter. “I know how to make use of the showers. I could ‘deal’ with the smell until we returned.”

“That’s one less thing to worry about I guess…” She sighed. “Now to I just gotta work out the rest.” This all seemed so much easier when she was angry. 

There was a long silence as Sole started to work the Power Armor, tentatively poking around the pieces to look at the frame. X6 scanned their surroundings, ensuring no other patrols were going to interrupt her. Finally she managed to get lucky and found the release on the power armor frame, snatching her fingers back as the frame released its occupant, who Sole could easily pry from the armor. 

“Bingo!” She said excitedly, rubbing her fingertips which got a bit pinched from the opening armor. X6 looked over at her.

“Sounds like you’ve finished step one of thirty, Ma’am.” X6 observed. She rolled her eyes.

“Hey one step is still one step closer than we were a minute ago.” She shot back. He was right though. How was she going to even get them on the deck? She looked down at her Pip-boy. It could take her anywhere she’d been before, but she’d never made a point of visiting the giant death balloon looming over the Commonwealth. Not that she had been invited. 

“Look, Ma’am, no offense, but I think you’ve lost your mind.” X6 noted with worry. She looked back at him and she could see the noticeable flinch in his demeanor. 

It was the first time he’d made any direct remark on her decisions. There had been derisive comments, even something that could be construed as teasing, but nothing like this. Somehow over the course of their assignment, he’d kept letting his filter slip, and she’d kept letting him. But what he had just done was obvious grounds for verbal warning at least, and even termination (if she was spiteful enough). He wouldn’t be the first synth terminated for insubordination. It was her word against his. He was silent as he awaited her response, hopefully only sending him back to the institute for re-education. 

“I understand, from your position, the plan sounds crazy.” She admitted. He was stunned. “But regardless of how we go forward, we will be taking down that over-sized blimp. I had Advanced Systems whip up enough explosives to take out a small settlement, and I don’t know about you, but I want to see them put to good use.” He waited, surely she had some consequence planned for his actions… No punishment for his comment… A faint smile tilted his lips.

“The Brotherhood of Steel has no idea what they’re up against.” He replied, a new found confidence to his voice. “But they’re about to find out.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

They stood by Nordhagen beach in the dead of night, the few settlers that lived there were fast asleep. The moon shone through wispy clouds, illuminating them with a soft silver glow. The water lapped at the shore, washing up the usual scrap, glistening under the starlight. The only other sounds came from Sole tapping at her Pip-boy and X6 nervously pacing the shore, sand shifting beneath his Power Armor. 

“Have you thought about this extensively?” X6 asked, keeping the growing anxiety out of his voice. Sole was fiddling with her Pip-boy, glancing up at the Prydwen every so often. 

“Define ‘extensively’.” She murmured. “Hey, how high do you think that thing is?”

“Extensively meaning you have given this a considerable amount of thought. More so than say, five minutes.” He started. “As for guessing it's height, I lack sufficient data.” 

“Same, but I guess this will have to do.” She mused, clicking a dial on the device before standing up. 

“You are… You're joking… Right?” He asked, fear rising in his voice. She gave a devilish grin as she looked at him.

“Nope.” And with that she slammed a hand on her Pip-boy to quickly activate the relay. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

It required two relays to happen in sequence. One into the institute, another one immediately after to the designated location she’d had to input manually. It was a gamble getting the altitude just right, but working from Nordhagen had helped. 

They materialized in the air, dropping quickly through the empty space. Sole had been ready for this, but still had to cover her mouth to stifle the scream trying to claw its way out of her throat. X6 fell a little quicker due to the added weight of his power armor. She braced herself as soon as she heard the clang of his metal frame hit the forecastle. She was ready to break an ankle on impact, but her fall was broken by two steel arms plucking her out of the air. X6 caught her, arms over the bow of the deck. She clung to his metal frame, staring at the dark abyss below her. She felt her stomach drop, if he hadn't caught her she would have kept falling and falling….

“Ma’am, the noise will attract soldiers to our location.” He said, looking back at the door to the deck. “I urge you to collect yourself.” She nodded, and he lowered her to the deck. She gripped the railing for a moment, fighting the nausea that was rising in her stomach. She didn't have time to lose her lunch. She had jar heads to murder.

“You’re taking this well…” She observed, glancing over at the stoic figure of X6, patiently waiting for her to recover.

“I am trained to adapt to any situation.” He explained stiffly. She looked him over again.

“So you didn't make use of the fluid deposit chamber in your armor?” She asked knowingly. The was a choked pause, interrupted by the iron door to the command deck swinging open. Two soldiers clad in power armor stormed out, gatling guns at the ready. They hesitated when they saw the two of them on the deck.

“What was that commotion?” One demanded, “How’d you two get up here?” Sole approached them before X6 had a chance to try out his impersonation. 

“My apologies, uh, knights. We came up here for uh, privacy…” Sole explained, a blush coming over her. “My, uh, well he was just being an idiot. Said he could jump off the deck and do a cannonball into the river. I had to pull him back onto the deck.” The two soldiers looked at both of them. The story was plausible. She drew closer to them, lowering her voice. “Please don’t tell anyone, he’s already been written up for discharging a weapon on deck. Tried hitting a super mutant all the way on an overpass.” The two looked at each other. 

“We’ll ignore the incident this time. It's lucky for you the Elder is back at the airport. Probably why you tried this stunt.” The first warned. “But next time we see you, you had better be model soldiers.”

“Yes sir!” She answered excitedly.

“Ad Victoriam!” X6 added with gusto. The three of them exchanged looks. 

“He, uh, he hasn't slept for a couple days.” She explained. The other two gave each other wary looks, before retreating back to the command deck. Sole turned back to X6.

“Great addition there X, really sold the cover.” She murmured with a smile.

“Like I said, I am trained to adapt to every situation.” He reiterated with pride, completely oblivious to her sarcasm. 

“How about from here on out, how about we ‘adapt’ that I do all the talking.” She advised. He nodded, though a bit disappointed. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’ve seen my share of destruction, but I have to admit, that’s impressive.” X6 said with awe. They watched it burn from the safety of a far off beach. It wasn't hard to place the explosives without being noticed. Everyone seemed to be pretty relaxed knowing their ever vigilant leader was elsewhere. It did mean that Sole still had a lot of work to do in dismantling the BOS, but she’d halved her workload by getting rid of that airship. 

“Alright, that’s not going to be recovered anytime soon.” Sole noted, the metal crashing into the ground with explosive force. “Let's head back to the institute, give them a status report. Get a shower. Head back out tomorrow to finish the job.”

“Is that all?” X6 asked suddenly. She looked over at him blankly. “Pardon the outburst Ma’am. But you just took out one of the biggest threats to the institute, you’re acting like it's nothing.” She sighed and looked over at him.

“The threat is hardly neutralised.” She responded tiredly. “Didn't I tell you that our missions together would entail threat elimination? If it's the scale that unnerves you, feel free to remain at the SRB.”

“I just meant… It's going to be enjoyable working with you.” X6 finished, the distant firelight illuminating a thin smile on his face. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

She stood again in the shower. Staring at the silver shower head. She didn't dare blink. Everytime she did, she saw the face of the squire they’d passed on the way to set the charges. It was ripping her apart. What else would she do to cement her position in the institute? Would she murder more children? Become worse than the thing she sought to destroy? 

She turned off the tap, stepping out of the shower a glowing red. Steam rolled off of her as she moved to her bed, pulling along a fresh towel from the rack behind her. 

She had to put it out of her mind. She had to harden her heart to everything. The BOS were worse than the institute. She'd seen the evidence in the way they mercilessly hunted civil ghouls and peaceful synths. They would have been a bigger threat than the institute within a month if they’d been allowed to continue their advancement. It didn't justify the murder of children, but that went without saying. 

Now the only thing left to do would be dismantling this place brick by brick. It wouldn't be hard. The directors were already at odds with one another, there are at least a hundred synths ready to rebel at a moments notice, and soon she would have complete control over the organisation. Within the year the institute would be history. 

Christ, she was going to miss toilet paper.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

_ **Day 6** _

Sole was exhausted; She hadn’t slept at all last night. If it wasn’t dreams about feral creatures swarming her, it was watching the Prydwen burn to the sounds of a baby crying. It wasn’t pleasant. Still, her work wasn’t over, and she couldn’t do it all alone.

She usually tried to limit her visits to the SRB. On the list of all the things about the Institute she loathed, the SRB was responsible for eight of the top ten. From its paranoid director, Ayo, to its insufferable staff. 

Still, if she was going to request X6-88 as a permanent companion, she would need to venture into the lion's den. 

She entered the automatic sliding doors, but hesitated to go further. There were a few other reasons she hated the SRB.

For starters, It was where the retained Synths were held after their recall. She’d seen them after the Battle of Bunker Hill, vacant expressions, still wearing the rags they’d been relayed in. A betrayal of everything the Railroad had stood for…

She shook it off. She had nothing to be afraid of. She headed inside, walking slowly towards the main office. There was a ready room up ahead that the Coursers tended to use to await assignments. X6 should be inside.

She approached it, thankful Ayo wasn't in at the moment. There was a soft rumble of conversation on the other side of the door. If X6 was in there, he wasn't alone.

She opened the auto door and slipped inside the ready room, obscured by a thin grey wall decorated with some tasteful abstract paintings. She quietly waited, hidden, listening in.

“... I will repeat myself. Comments pertaining to the Directors successor will not be engaged.” X6 replied, voice thick with restrained annoyance. 

“Really? No comments at all?” Came the voice of X4-18, another reason she hated the SRB. X4’s voice was taunting, freely breaking any kind of protocol in the privacy of the ready room. “You seemed content enough to engage in discourse before you became her favored. ‘unprepared and without a professional bone in her body’... Those were your ‘comments’, remember?”

“I lacked the sufficient data to make a sound judgement.” X6 admitted, voice still straining to remain civil. She could almost feel his hand itching towards his laser rifle.

“Yes, we are all aware of what ‘data’ you are collecting.” X4 chuckled. There was a gritting silence as X6 controlled his breathing. “You must be an expert in your field by now...”

“... I repeat. Comments pertaining to the Directors successor will not be engaged.” He responded, through clenched teeth. It was hard to imagine him being anything other than stoic and emotionless. It was admittedly one of the reasons she preferred his company.

“Well, joking aside, I think you both would make a perfect pair. After all, you are both lower models punching above your station. A synth that thinks it's a courser and a-” There was a metal clang as X4’s skull made contact with something steel. 

“I will** not **repeat this. _Do Not Comment On the Directors Successor_.” X6 growled. 

The sound of his boots on the ceramic tile warned her of his approach. She reached back and activated the automatic door quickly, the doors slid open and she stepped back a bit, as if just arriving at the ready room. 

“Hey X6, you in here?” She called, trying to sound casual. He emerged from behind the wall, the very definition of calm and collected.

“Present, Ma’am.” He replied simply. “Do you have another assignment?”

“Several, but I need to address Director Ayo about some jurisdiction issues.” She answered carefully, ignoring the sheepish figure of X4 lurking around the corner. “Are you ready to go?”

“Ready when you are, Ma’am.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------

Ayo wasn’t available for redesignating X6’s assignment, but they heard from some of the staff that he would be back shortly. It offered Sole the chance to outfit X6 with more effective ordinance at Advanced Systems. 

The Advanced Systems staff mostly left them alone while Sole tinkered with X6’s institute issue laser rifle. She had to hold back a slew of comments on its design, mostly it's limitations. Instead she made small talk with X6, but with difficulty.

“So, you seem pretty attached to laser firing weapons. Why?” She asked, cleaning the fusion cell connectors where wasteland soil had found its way between the cells.

“I favor accuracy over unstable power.” He explained curtly. “Plasma weapons lack the precision I require. Ballistic weapons can be equally unreliable.” She was tempted to blow out some of the dust around the connectors with a quick breath, but one fleck of saliva could short all her handiwork.

“Hey, could you ask around for some compressed air, I need to clean this bit out.” She asked, glancing over her shoulder. He nodded before leaving. She examined the rest of the weapon, there were a couple ways she could improve it… though her idea of improvements and X6’s differed. She’d usually over charge it, add connectors to increase ammo capacity, and modify it to take plasma cartridges… But X6 liked to hit the thing he’s aimed at. So she would have to compromise and focus on improving his range and accuracy. She could probably add another 50 yards to his shot, and with the right scope… 

“If you spend anymore time here, Li will just toss a A.S.coat on you and sentence you to data entry.” A voice said beside her, cigarette smoke drifting nearby. She looked up from her work to see Dr.Carrington. 

“I think she’s more likely to ask me to be the target in the firing range.” Sole joked, putting the rifle down. The man chuckled, nodding. “How about you? You don’t exactly scream ‘employee of the month’.” His smile disappeared.

“I am completely dedicated to the Institute and my research I-” He started to hiss, but she cut him off.

“Hey, hey, take it easy.” She reassured him as he snuffed out his cigarette. “You just remind me of someone...” He turned to get back to his work. “Stanly misses you.” He froze, he nearly turned back to see her, but shook it off and fled deeper into the labs. She shrugged and went back to the rifle. 

She was about to make sneaky modification to the receiver, but she was interrupted when a can of compressed air was set upon the workbench. She looked up, X6 was looking over her work.

“Will that still be safe to fire when you’re done?” He asked skeptically. She smirked, taking the can and spraying in the gaps between the components, trying to avoid freezing her fingers off in the process. Dirt and debris shot out onto the workbench, it was satisfying to see. Sand and grit were always jamming her weapons. 

“It’ll be safe for everyone you’re not pointing it at.” Sole assured him. His jaw set into a concerned frown. “You can try it out at the firing range if you don't believe me. If it explodes here, at least there are Doctors to patch you up.” 

“That doesn’t fill me with confidence.” He muttered so only she could hear. She assembled the rest of the rifle with practiced hands, recalling the many hours she’d spent in Sanctuary modifying the shitty pipe weapons she’d pry off raiders.

“I used to do this all the time on the surface, I like to think I’m pretty decent at it.” She said with a smile, not taking her eyes off the rifle as she slotted in a few fusion cells and felt it come to life. “I used to have this shotgun… I could clear out whole Supermutants nests out with it… Until it nearly busted outside Goodneighbor at the worst possible time. I don’t like talking about it... I’d kill to get that damned thing back…” She finished assembling it and handed it over to X6. It was a touch heavier than before, but the weight felt balanced in his hands, and it felt easier to handle. He peered through the scope, which had a toggle for night vision. He let out a low whistle of astoundment.

“Solid upgrade, I like it.” He admitted, already making his way to the firing range. She smiled, clearing up the workbench of all the spare parts and pieces she’d had spare. A staff member made a comment about leaving it for a Gen 3 to clean up, but Sole pretended as though she didn't hear them. She wondered what the synth Shaun was doing today, maybe she could schedule their next interaction while she was here. The kid probably got lonely. 

She looked back at the firing range, X6 was busy firing his newly modified rifle, mostly to get used to the lack of recoil on it. She figured the slight kick of the rifle might throw off his shots so she made some adjustments. She waited for him outside of the glassed in range, watching him easily adjust to the new firing style. It was a shame he couldn't properly test the distance on it. After the ammo was spent he emerged, gripping the weapon protectively. He looked down at her.

“Feels deadlier, more efficient. Nice piece of craftsmanship, Ma’am.” X6 commended her. “You might even teach the engineers a thing or two…” He murmured the last part, wary of the advanced systems staff around him. She chuckled under her breath, she doubted they’d be open to any helpful tips.

“Well, Ayo should be in now. Perhaps You’ll have a chance to test it out.” She smiled, glowing a bit from the high praise. 

“The sooner the better.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------

The price for X6’s reassignment was steep. Well, steep for Sole anyway. She could borrow X6 for missions, but only if some of those missions involved running errands for the SRB. 

Their first stop was collecting some reports from a field agent in Diamond city. As if things couldn't get better. 

Sole was mostly silent as they finished their job. She wore a gas mask and covered up with wasteland armor, anything to keep from being recognised. The agent was insufferable as well, she let X6 do all the talking, which wasn't much, while she slunk off to grab some noodles in the market. 

It was just as well. X6 had to investigate some other sources of information in the city, who knew where the next lead to a runner would be. And there was one other errand he needed to complete before they could relay back…

He could feel the relief radiating off her when they were finally ready to relay back outside the city. It was unnerving to see her this way. 

“Ma’am, could I request a detour?” He asked as she started to input the coordinates for relay. She looked up in surprise. “I have yet to properly test your work in a combat situation.” She sighed.

“X6, it's just us. You can say you want to shoot things.” She said with a tired, thin smile. “So what were you thinking of for target practice?”

“I thought we could light up some Super mutants nearby.” He replied, more relaxed. “Nothing like a big, green target to break in a new modification.” She shrugged. 

“Seems as good as anything. Better than civilians.” She noted. She started towards the nearest Super Mutant Nest, but X6 cleared his throat. She turned around, raising an eyebrow at him. “Something wrong, 6?”

“No, but surely you don't intend to kill them with ‘that’.” He motioned to her laser pistol. It wasn't ideal, but she hadn't had time to improve it. She rolled her eyes.

“The guy gets a big gun and it goes to his head.” She mused in annoyance. A faint smirk lit upon his lips. 

“No offense intended, Ma’am, but perhaps you would like some more appropriate ordinance?” He asked, and from his courser jacket he produced something that made her breath catch in her throat.

“Is that… A Combat Shotgun?” She gasped, looking at the long barreled weapon, taking it gingerly from X6’s hands. “How the hell were you hiding this in your coat?” 

“It has pockets.” He replied simply. She didn't care, she was too busy admiring the firepower in her hands.

“Man, I hope this isn't your way of brown- nosing your way to some kind of promotion.” She chuckled, loading in a few shells. 

“No Ma’am, I’m not that subtle.” He answered with a genuine smile.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

They were waist deep in gore bags and assorted viscera. It was standard super mutant decor, with the addition of Diamond City Security Uniforms strewn throughout the building. It was uncomfortably close to the great green jewel, Security would sleep easier knowing their patrols outside the city would be a little safer. 

“Would it kill them to bathe?” X6 muttered as they stepped over shattered femurs. “We could look into weaponizing this odour.” She stifled a laugh, mindful of the noise. They still had a few greenbacks to kill before this place was secure. 

“I’m sure we could get a few people in Bioscience to look into it…” She mused, treading carefully over a gore bag brimming with organs. She held back a gag.

“Agreed, it might make a change for them to do something useful for once.” X6 affirmed. Sole covered her mouth to muffle a laugh. “That was… Not a joke.” 

“It's funny because it's true, 6. Humor is subjective.” Sole explained, rolling her eyes. “What sound?” A deep, mutant-esque, voice asked from the next room over. Sole and X6 hid back behind the wall, watching the doorway. Heavy footsteps clamored over debris and crunched bones. 

Sole raised her shotgun just as a green face peered out from the doorway. It disappeared in an explosion of bone fragments, chunks of brain, and red mist. This alerted his four friends to their location.

Instead of politely strolling through their choke point like good abominations of nature, they had the audacity to throw a grenade through the doorway. Sole dove out of the blast range, but X6 dove towards it. She turned back in time to see him scoop up the live grenade and hurl it back out the door.

“Catch!” He bellowed, before jumping behind the door frame. The explosion sent shock waves all the way to Sole’s cover, if X6 hadn't thrown it, she would likely be short a couple hands and a nose. If she’d been lucky. 

X6 was down, the blast had torn apart the doorway and sent him sprawling into the corner. The Super mutants had fared slightly better, and rage pushed them through their injuries. She could already hear the wind up of a mini gun. She had to act fast.

She moved through the wrecked hall quickly, drawing their attention, and their fire. She ducked in to the doorway of a boarded up room, giving her just enough cover to avoid the Bullets ripping towards her if she took a deep breath in. 

The second they stopped she darted towards the Mutants, clad in leather armor and metal colanders, and fired a round of shells into the one with the minigun, turning his intestines into decorative paper chains. He fell, leaving his three friends, two of which were already heading towards her with matching super sledges. The third was already picking up the fallen’s minigun. Shit. 

She fell back down the hall, stumbling over herself to escape while reaching into her pockets for something she’d been saving for a rainy day. Their roars echoed behind her, accompanied by the sound of Bullets pitting what was left of the hall with lead.

As soon as her foot hit the floor on the other side of the doorway, she tossed back a glowing green cylinder, pulsing with energy. Her only plasma grenade.

She grabbed an overturned table and dragged it just over X6 and her in the corner. The plasma grenade detonated, vaporizing the two mutants after her. The blast barely hit the table they were taking cover behind, but the sound was still ringing in Sole’s ears. She almost didn't hear the heavy footsteps of the last super mutant, trudging up the hall, mini gun in hand. She couldn't catch a break.

Sole loaded some shells into her rifle quickly, she needed to make these ones count. First thing through the doorway was the barrel of the minigun, already winding up. She raised her shotgun where his head should pop through, and unloaded every shell the second they came into view.

The mutant fell, their weapon winding down with a disappointed whir. She let her arms drop to the ground, catching her breath, and looking back over at the fallen Courser. He had a gash on his head, probably where the blast had sent him against a wall or into flying debris.

Otherwise he seemed fine… But his sunglasses were cracked. They’d have to be repaired… Or maybe replaced. She swiped the broken shades from his face and pocketed them into her jacket. A little keepsake from the excursion.

He grunted as he started to come to, immediately trying to haul himself up. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder, resting him back against the wall.

“Threats eliminated, just rest up here.” She soothed. “I got a spare stimpak if you need it.” 

“Not necessary… I just need… A moment…” He managed, rubbing his skull. Then he froze as his hands went to his face, feeling the absence of his glasses. “Ah.” He was silent for a moment, eyes still closed against the pain. Sole felt a twinge of guilt.

“They pretty much got blasted off your face.” She lied, “I don't know if you want to wonder glue the pieces back together or…” He opened his eyes and looked over at her with a cold glare. The venom felt even more intense now she could actually see his eyes. His ice blue eyes. She coughed and looked away, face reddening. 

“I will request a replacement when we return.” He said begrudgingly. 

“You need them that bad?” She asked, a little concerned, a little disappointed, and now very guilty. 

“My eyes are not adjusted to the sunlight.” He explained quietly. “They lack the filter most Courser agents have built in. Thus the sunglasses are necessary for functioning on the surface.” There was a silence between them, the obvious question hanging in the air. He took a breath.

“I suppose I should explain now, before someone else does.” He started, sitting up a bit more, eyes still closed. “I… I wasn't made to be a Courser.” He let that sink in for a moment before continuing. “I was a regular Gen 3 synth, probably meant to infiltrate somewhere or another. But when it came to combat training I became someone else. I was hitting targets the other synths struggled to even see, and breaking fitness records the researchers didn't even think we're possible.” There was a touch of smugness to his voice now. “Normally, I would have been marked above average in testing and sent out into the Commonwealth to fulfill my role, but Father intervened.” A fond smile crossed his expression. “He insisted I be put into Courser training, to see how well I stand up against the others. He said I was a testament to the Institutes ideals…” He shook his head, as if feeling undeserving of the praise. “It wasn't easy, the other Coursers thought it was a joke. They weren't laughing when I started getting runners they couldn't.” 

“Bet it felt good wiping X4’s smirk off his face.” She noted. 

“Actually…” He started with a sigh. “He was sort of my sponsor for the training.” 

“He- what?” She asked in surprise. He nodded, he could understand the shock.

“I looked up to him, he was one of the most effective Coursers on record. I felt honored he would allow me on missions with him.” He spat out his words bitterly. “Turns out, he only kept me on for as long as the hero worship lasted. After I started to surpass him in skill, the partnership turned sour fast.” He let out a tired breath. 

“Well that’s one problem we won't have.” She chuckled. 

“Pardon?” He asked, raising one eyebrow. 

“We started this partnership with whatever the opposite of ‘hero worship’ is.” She explained with a smirk.

“Quiet skepticism? Casual annoyance? Polite disdain?” He asked.

“Oh I just hated you.” She laughed, giving him a playful shove. He hid a smirk that said he’d felt the same. She hauled herself up. “If you can stand, we should relay back to the institute. I’m starting to get too comfortable surrounded by other people's organs.” 

“Better than your own.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------

She headed to Advanced Systems immediately, leaving X6 to recover. She had some big plans with synth Shaun-Kid Shaun?Kid Synth… God, she didn’t know what to call him. But, she’d scheduled an interaction with him, and they were going to figure out how to make a bowling alley. Maybe just a lane. 

When she arrived, Shaun (it was easier to just call him that, besides, her son went by Father now. Christ, this was getting weird) was waiting for her. He was excited, chattering to the researcher next to him, who pretended to be interested in what he was saying. 

“Hey kid, ready to go?” She asked, coming up to him. He bolted up to her.

“I told them we were going to go bowling and they didn’t believe me!” He exclaimed. She knelt down to his height. 

“Well, we got to build it first, how are you with engineering?” She asked seriously. He looked nervous.

“I mean, I don’t know much..” He admitted.

“Perfect, we can learn together!” She smiled, much to his and the researchers surprise. 

“Pray tell, how do you intend to do that?” A familiar voice of annoyance asked. Dr. Carrington walked towards them, cigarette in hand. 

“I had a friend, he said 90% of engineering was just well placed duct tape.” Sole replied with a shrug. Dr. Carrington rubbed his forehead with a free hand. 

“Did Madison give you clearance for this?” He asked in exasperation. 

“Not directly,” Sole admitted. “But it’s a valuable educational exercise for the boy.” Shaun nodded eagerly. Dr. Carrington ground his cigarette into a crystal ashtray. The researcher beside Shaun looked as though he was ready to whisk the boy backa way, but The doctor waved him off. 

“I’ll supervise.” He replied reluctantly. “But we’ll have to keep out of the staff’s way.” Sole smiled, nodding. 

“Old service tunnels it is then.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m sure Dr.Li didn’t have this in mind for the boy’s enrichment.” Dr. Carrington said hesitantly as Sole and Shaun hauled a variety of parts and knick-knacks for their ersatz bowling alley. 

“She’s too busy working with the heads of the Institute to worry about us.” Sole explained, picking up a spot welder on their way out of the labs.

“Shouldn’t you be doing that as well?” Dr. Carrington pointed out.

“You kidding? I got the most important job of any of them.” She smiled, “This bowling alley won’t build itself, right kid?”

“It’s going to be the coolest.” He agreed. Dr. Carrington went to his pockets, taking out a cigarette to cope.

The old service tunnels were mostly off limits, but Father _had_ said she was welcome anywhere in the Institute. They put down the parts and Sole got out a two clipboards with pen and paper. 

“First, we got to make a blueprint.” She said seriously, handing Shaun a clipboard. “That means we draw a picture of how it’s meant to look when it’s done.” 

“That isn’t-” Dr. Carrington started, but Sole continued.

“I brought a pre-war magazine from the archives to give you an idea.” She took out a plastic covered folder with an ancient magazine inside. On the cover was an article with a bowling alley on it, rendered with the usual soft pastels everything was painted in back then. She stared for a minute at the soft blue of one bowlers dress, and pinks that highlighted the scene. Shaun grabbed it excitedly, creasing the plastic in his haste. Sole cringed at the damage, but played it off. He was just a kid after all. 

“So, do the pins explode?” He asked, noticing the animate effects over the pins as a ball crashed into them. She smiled and shook her head.

“No, but if we can get this working, we can make them explode.” She apologized.

“No, no, no exploding anything.” Dr. Carrington vetoed. Shaun sunk with a little disappointment. 

“Right, we gotta get this working first.” Sole agreed, starting to sketch out a design on her clipboard. Shaun noticed and copied her, but his lines were a lot slower, more deliberate. “So the main part of this is we need to make a ball return and pin set.” She sketched out a sort of haphazard design and showed to Shaun and Dr. Carrington. Shaun squinted, a little confused, the doctor was quiet for a moment, before bursting out with a laugh. 

“What on earth- How would you even… Here let me.” The doctor took the clipboard and turned over the paper, quickly sketching a detailed design. He turned it back to us, it actually looked feasible. Shaun was quiet, looking over it, then went back to his clipboard, drawing out something with determination. Finally he turned to to them. 

“That. That, actually is pretty good.” Dr. Carrington mused, somewhat amazed. He took the paper and looked at it more closely. Sole looked it over as well. It wasn’t a child's scribble, it was almost verbatim what the one in the magazine looked like, with the added features of Dr. Carrington’s design. She let out a low whistle.

“Kid,” she said quietly, Shaun was squirming under her gaze, not sure if he was in trouble. “You… Are amazing!” She scooped him up and hugged him, she had never felt more proud. She put him down, smiling. “This is going to be the best bowling alley ever! I bet even Father would try it out!” Dr. Carrington coughed. She looked over at him.

“It is impressive,” He admitted. “But we can’t be away from the lab for much longer. It’s nearly evening.” Shaun looked crestfallen. Dr. Carrington was hesitant, before kneeling down to his height, his knees complaining as he did so. “Shaun, how about we work on this together? We could start tomorrow, i’ll teach you a few fundamentals of engineering.” The boys face lit up, and before either of them knew what was happening, Shaun hugged the doctor tightly. There was a surprised gasp, but the doctor politely patted him on the back, before he stood up again. 

“C’mon kid,” Sole said with a smile, “Let’s get you home.” 

\---------------------------------------------------------------


	2. Wearing the face of a dead woman

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

_ **Day 7** _

_Oh god, not this one again._ Sole thought, surrounded by shadow, ethereal music playing in the background. Of all the nightmares she had, this was her least favorite. She pressed herself against a wall, the shadows closing in. _Wakeup Wakeup…_ She urged herself, but she was stuck. Dread filled her, soon creatures would cover her with their rotting limbs, until she woke in a cold sweat… Except it didn’t happen this time.

A single hand came out of the shadows. It was mottled, pitted with damage, lined with track marks… She leaned forward, and extended her own hand, hesitantly. Their hands met, and the shadows dissipated. Before her was… 

_”Hancock…”_ She choked out with happiness- but the words jolted her out of sleep. Her eyes opened to the dark room, the words on her lips. Her heart seemed to writhe in her chest, as if it remembered something she didn’t. That thing… A ghoul in a red coat… Hancock? He was someone.. But she couldn’t seem to dredge up any memory of him. Nothing, not even a passing thought… Was he just a figment of her imagination? She closed her eyes again, maybe it would come back to her in the morning. 

Tomorrow, was going to be a fun day. Father had asked her to find the remnants of the RailRoad. That meant combing through the old HQ and pretending she’d never been before. And more to the point, pretending not to find anything. She may have betrayed them, but it was better to keep what little was left alive. She’d need help after the Institute burned. 

She could already feel sleep start to take her. Soon she’d be swept back to her dreams. Maybe the Ghoul had something to do with the Railroad… No, that was stupid. She’d remember that… But there was someone else in the Railroad who might know. Somebody who dug into memories for a living… She could pay her a visit after her errands tomorrow.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

The air of the catacombs was heavy with mold and damp. Sole and X6 stepped carefully over the feral corpses, kicking them to be sure. The walk from the church to HQ never seemed longer. 

“Ma’am, what should we be looking for?” X6 inquired, laser rifle at the ready in case one of the corpses sprung to life.

“The Brotherhood probably left behind more than they thought, we should be looking for something that will lead us to the Railroads remnants.” Sole explained, eyeing the cracked tombs on either side. 

At the end of the hall where the HQ entrance once was, now lay piles of blown up brick and mortar. _Really? They couldn’t take the two minutes to spell** Railroad**_? 

They stepped over the rubble and were met with an eerie sight. The HQ was empty, save for upturned desks, scattered papers, and a lot of dried blood. The bodies had been removed, whether by the Brotherhood for study, or the Railroad for burial. Somehow the former seemed more likely. 

“We need to look for symbols on the walls written in chalk.” Sole briefed, “Call me over if you find anything suspicious.” He nodded and they split up, combing over the dilapidated setting.

Sole looked wistfully at the smashed terminal. Most likely done by an agent to stop the Brotherhood finding out anything. And also to prevent any nosy institute members from figuring out their next move. She looked under desks, and examined the brick walls carefully. She ran her fingers over the rough surface of the baked clay, nose nearly pressed to the mortar, until it ended and came up on the dark green chalkboard. She hesitated looking up at the names, somehow preserved amongst the chaos. 

The last name made her heart heavy. <strike>Charmer</strike>. Of course it would be crossed out. Agent Charmer died the moment she stepped onto the Railroad teleport. Who ever Sole was now, was a stranger to both her former selves. 

“Hey over here!” X6 called, jolting her from her thoughts. She came over, shoes treading over crumbling cement. X6 was kneeling near the shooting range, a small symbol made of six lines radiating from a large X. She gave a short sigh. 

“Sign for danger. Pretty standard, but you’re in the right direction.” She explained. X6 nodded, examining it further. 

“My mistake, it caught my eye because…” He started, but his voice trailed off into a mumble. Sole waited patiently for the explanation. He coughed. “The young synth, S9-23, had a phase in which his programming was stuck obsessing over the pre-war concept of ‘pirates’.” X6 looked visibly uncomfortable explaining. Whether it was because he was mentioning the ‘child’, or because the subject matter was ridiculously childish. 

“Some researchers conspired to make a ‘treasure map’ for him. Father had me under orders to accompany him in his ‘treasure hunt’. The X brings back… Uncomfortable memories…” X6 shuddered. Sole examined the sign again. The X did seem a little bigger than usual, but she’d put that down to panic. Perhaps though… She looked at the surrounding wall. There was a seam of mortar where the brick was broken above it, and below it… Huh, was that splash of green paint always there? It looked as though someone had hastily splashed paint on the ground. She’d figured it was just more mess from the aftermath… Sole sat back on the ground, staring at it. 

“Do you have an idea, Ma’am?” X6 asked, thankful she seemed to be ignoring his escapades as a pirate. 

“Yeah, but I’m trying to figure out if they made it this easy for a reason…” She mused. “That broken bit looks like the river, and the green is likely Diamond city, so logically, the X can only be one place. But why there?” She murmured to herself under her breath. She closed her eyes and exhaled loudly. Before opening one eye and glancing at X6 with a smirk.

“So you were saying about your time as an outlaw of the sea?” She asked her smile widening at his discomfort. 

“It isn’t really important at the moment.” He tried, avoiding any and all eye contact from behind his shades. 

“Oh, but it might give me another insight into our problem.” She insisted, trying not to giggle. He grumbled, crossing his arms. 

“There isn’t much to tell.” He began reluctantly. “The researchers let him discover an old newspaper, re purposed into a map of the labs. S9 followed it, he found a pre-war comic book. End of story.” Then he added. “I resisted suggestions I should wear an eye patch for the endeavor.” At this Sole burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the crypt. 

“That would have been glorious!” She exclaimed. His face darkened with a furious blush. “Oh come on, I bet you made him really happy.” He was silent. “What’s up?”

“Permission to speak freely?” He asked quietly. Sole looked up now, smile dropping. 

“Out here, X6, you never need to ask that.” She replied seriously. He was hesitant about continuing, but she patted a spot on the floor, signalling he sit beside her. He did so, but was reluctant to get his coat covered in dust. He stared at the wall before them and continued.

“The charade felt, wrong.” His voice was low, as if wary of invisible eavesdroppers. “Synths are meant to be tools, used by the institute. Technology designed for a clear and functional purpose. They created S9 because… I can’t even fathom an end to that sentence.” He sounded frustrated now. “S9 doesn’t even know… He thinks he’s like any other child. Albeit one mostly confined to labs and allowed to live at least partially outside the institute.” Sole recalled seeing the memory of Kellogg and the synth Shaun. It made her blood boil just thinking about it, so she took a breath and pushed it far from her mind. 

“I can imagine that would be upsetting.” Sole said carefully. “Having to take care of something unaware of its true nature.” He was silent, words dying on his tongue. Finally he was able to choke out a response.

“I… It.. Yes.” He managed. “Speaking to... S9 always felt like lying. But I was under explicit orders.” The hitch in his voice before the child's name told Sole all she needed to know. He wasn’t just speaking about S9.

“Do you hate S9?” She asked quietly. He seemed unnerved by the question. “Do you hate that you are both the same, but the researchers treat him like a human?” There was a heavy silence as X6 contemplated the question. Sole drew her knees up to her chest, bracing for whatever answer he gave.

“At first, yes.” He answered honestly, his tone bitter. “I hated him, I thought he was made out of vanity and nostalgia. At worst I thought S9 should be terminated, at best I simply pitied it.” She rested her head against her knees, forehead pressing against her helmet. It was the answer she had expected. “But I’ve come to understand Father’s decision to create S9 better now.” She looked up in surprise. His tone was softer now. “Father created S9 for you.”

“To keep me company when he died… Yeah, great belated-mother's day gift.” Sole noted coldly.

“It was for more than that.” X6 scolded gently. “S9 was made with Father’s earliest memories, his childhood mannerisms, everything that made him who he was as a child.” 

“How is that even possible?” She asked with quiet horror.

“Neuroscience is nearly a perfect science in the institute now.” He replied with a shrug. “They poked around in his head and recorded his memories, and then extrapolated the data from them. It took them a couple tries, but the end result speaks for itself.” She bit her lip, gripping her legs to her chest tightly. X6 shook his head, oblivious to her horror. “But that’s not the point. The point was, S9 is in every way but physical, your son. He may be a synth, but he was meant to feel as real as possible.” 

“So I just lie to a child for the rest of my life?” She asked bitterly, swallowing down the lump in her throat. She wasn’t going to breakdown in front of X6. Anyone but X6.

“That is up to you.” He said simply. “But I am convinced of two facts since working with you.” He looked straight at her now as he spoke. “The first is that, synth or no, he is your son. The second is that no matter what decision you make, it will hold no bearing over your effectiveness as a Director. You will uphold Father’s legacy admirably regardless.” 

“That… That means a lot coming from you, 6. Thanks…” She managed, coughing to clear her throat and cover the cracks in her voice. 

“Don’t mention it, Ma’am.” He dismissed, picking himself off the dusty floor. “We had better relay back to the Institute, I have been ignoring an incoming message from director Ayo for several minutes now, and the man does not understand the virtue of patience.” She gave a choked laugh and hauled herself up as well, dusting herself off. 

“Back into the fray then.” She said with a smile. 

\-------------------------------------------------------

Sole hated College Square. It was a snipers wet dream, it was riddled with feral ghouls, and it was a stone’s throw from a former BOS base. She passed through it once before, and the experience was enough to mark it as a no go area for the rest of her life. 

So of course Ayo’s very important message for X6 was that he had a reliable tip that an escaped synth was hiding out there. 

X6 had taken point, quietly dispatching the ghouls around the square, while she looked out for other threats. The BOS had been here for a month, and even they couldn’t seem to eliminate all the ferals in the square. What was even the point of them? 

The wind seemed to rake over a symphony of tin cans in all directions, making it impossible to listen out for anything near them, there could have been a small army of Deathclaws coming up behind them and she’d be none the wiser. 

“Perimeter clear, Ma’am.” X6 assured her under his breath. She looked around for anything that resembled the hunched figure of a feral, or the ferocity of a deathclaw army; finding it seemingly clear of both. 

“Great, let’s do this and get out of here.” Sole said through gritted teeth. X6 nodded, maybe sharing some of her unease. 

Unless Ayo failed to mention that the synth was an experimental prototype in a project to create the most disgusting feral ghoul in existence, then the escaped synth was not here. Sole looked over at X6, laser rifle at the ready for anymore sleeping ghouls that felt like waking up underfoot. His left eyebrow twitched, betraying how irritated he was with the mission, and possibly Ayo. Maybe after this she’d let him fire a fat man at a raider camp to cheer him up.

Then a radio lit to life, Magnolia’s sultry voice crackled across the square from somewhere…

_I see you lookin' 'round the corner_

_Come on inside and pull up a chair_

_No need to feel like a stranger_

_Cause we're all a little strange in here._

“It’s coming from one of the-” X6 started, but more radios sprung to life in tandem. Echoing each other all around the square, waking the rotting residents of the surrounding area.

_Have you got a history that needs erasing?_

_Did you come in just for the beer and cigarettes?_

_A broken down dream you're tired of chasing_

_Oh, well I'm just the girl to make you forget._

Someone was messing with them. Not that they had time to worry about that. The music started crackling to life from the Cambridge station intercom, meaning soon they’d have to deal with whatever was down there.

_So we're glad you dropped by_

_Come in and loosen up your tie_

_Have a drink or maybe just one more_

_But if you're searchin' for something to bring you comfort_

_Oh well, I'm the one you're lookin' for._

X6 was undoubtedly annoyed at the trap they’d walked into, but was delighted to be shooting at something again. He tore through waves of animate corpses with practiced ease, while Sole took out the onslaught behind him with her lovely new Combat Shotgun. Back to back, they took out every single feral. As the last on fell, they stood there catching their breath, Sole leaning against X6, tiredly reloading her shotgun. Not many shells left.

_Now is your motor running close to empty?_

_Or are you runnin' from yourself?_

_You're thirsty for a brand new kind of pleasure?_

_Or are you hungry to be somebody else?_

That’s when the glow of radiation started to emerge from the station. A glowing ghoul drawn by the music and fire fight lurched from the subway steps towards them. It was too far away for her shotgun, and X6 had to reload his rifle. In that time it released a solid wave of rads throughout the square. Her stomach lurched with radiation sickness, but she pressed it down. Then the bodies around them started to pick themself up…

_So sit down your pretty face_

_You came to the right place_

_Oh, where every night it starts once more_

_I'm telling you friend, your search is at an end_

_Cause I'm the one you're lookin' for._

\-------------------------------------------------------

“I’m going to... Kill Ayo...” Sole muttered, sitting in the diner in the middle of the square. She wasn’t doing so hot, she was out of shotgun shells, having to take out the last few ghouls with her combat knife. Three of whom managed to bite chunks out of her before she could stab them in the head. If it hadn’t been for her synth helmet, they would have easily clawed out her face. X6 wasn’t much better, but at least he could walk. 

“Ma’am, there seems to be an issue with the relay.” X6 murmured to her as he patched up some of the more gaping wounds on her person. “Something seems to be interfering with the signal.” Of course. Because today was already going so well. She took a deep breath, thinking about their next moves. 

“I have a plan then, but you won’t like it.” Sole finally said.

“Ma’am, I have enough confidence in your judgement to trust your decision making at this point.” X6 reassured her. 

“You need to leave me here and try and relay back to the Institute.” 

“I was deeply mistaken, your decision making is compromised.” 

“I mean it 6, if the relay has been messed with, we need to know if the interference is from the area, or originates from the Institute.” Sole insisted. “If you can leave Cambridge and get the relay to work, then we know its the area. If you can’t get it to work anywhere then...” The unspoken words hit hard. Someone from the Institute could be trying to get them killed. 

“We can do it together. I will wait until you are able to walk.” X6 said, crossing his arms. “If the issue is with the area, then the threat is still present.”

“X6, think about it...” Sole said softly, “Ayo sent us here on a tip, all the radios were wired together to play and draw out ghouls, not to mention who else could mess with the relay?” X6 was silent. He didn’t want to believe the place he had devoted his life to would betray him. Finally he stood up and exhaled. 

“I’ll walk towards the ruins of the C.I.T., if we can get a signal anywhere, it will be there.” X6 explained, reloading his rifle with his few remaining energy cells. “I’ll be there and back in 30 minutes.” She nodded and he started towards the diner entrance, before pausing. “Take care you don’t succumb to your injuries, I’ve gotten used to these excursions.” She gave a weak smile and nodded.

\-------------------------------------------------------

She kept her head up, watching out for any movement on the square, and rummaged in her bag for a few plasma mines she could set up around her perimeter of the diner. It wouldn’t do her any good to let X6 down now. Only her bag was so cluttered, she couldn’t see where she’d put her mines. She struggled to her feet and placed the bag on a table, using the light to check it better.

It was at that moment she felt a bullet dig into her arm. She hissed and ducked down, searching wildly for the source. There was no way a sniper got her through one of the windows, she’d made sure she was out of their way. She ducked beneath a table, watching the doorway. There was no sign of someone there. The sting in her arm started to grow numb. Shit shit shit. She reached to inspect the wound on her bicep, expecting it to be soaked with more blood. But instead, the wound looked almost clean, and her fingers felt the cold steel of a syringe._ Shit shit shit. _

She removed it carefully, barely feeling the needle as it slid out. Blood seeped through her jumpsuit, staining her sterile white armor further. Some poor Gen 2 would be traumatised as they did her laundry. That is If she made it back to the Institute...

She could feel the numbness spread through her chest, each breath becoming laboured. Soon she would be completely paralysed. She glanced around one last time, and saw a faint shimmer in the air. She knew exactly who had set this trap.

“OK, you win. Best two out of three?” She called out to the empty diner. Near the counter there was a faint flicker in the air, before it wore off and revealed the figure quietly stepping towards her, syringer in hand. 

“Sure, I’m up for Rock Paper Scissors.” a voice echoed over the checkered linoleum floor. Sole tried to lift her arm to play, but she couldn't even move her fingers. She looked up at him.

“Unless that tranquilizer has hit you. Then it’d be a pretty quick game.” He looked down at her, his face unfathomable behind his glasses. Even the usual ticks and quirks of his expression were concealed. “How about we play 20 questions instead.” He knelt down beside her, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. “I’ll ask the questions, and you get to walk away from this with most of your fingers intact.” He took one of her limp wrists and cuffed it to the table stand. She was struggling to breathe now, her breathes coming out in gasps. He took out another syringe and popped it into the syringer. “Now I won’t lie to you, this is going to tickle.” He leveled it at her, pulling the trigger. The syringe dug into her leg, releasing a rush of pain through every fiber of her being. She screamed, jerking against her restraint, writhing on the floor. It felt as though she was burning alive. She clenched her teeth, trying to stifle more screams, her Synth helmet helped muffle some of the noise. 

She could take this. This was nothing. It was only her every nerve lighting up with pain signals. Man, she didn't even think her fingernails could feel pain. Now she knew better. She took deep even breaths, it stemmed some of the pain. She sat herself up, glaring up at Deacon. 

“Huh, Carrington must have diluted it. Most people kill themselves by this point. But then, I guess you aren't most people.”

She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of her usual banter, so she gritted her teeth and tried not to think about how much less painful it would be if she just jammed a pipe through her eye.

“So are you ready to play?” Deacon asked, a sinister edge to his voice. She remained silent. The pain was starting to ebb, her breathing evened out.

"Now usually, I don't waste time chatting with institute scum, at least not while they're still breathing. But we both know you're a special case." She remained silent. He took a breath, sitting down in front of her, a forced friendly smile on his face. 

"I feel like we got off to a bad start. The names Deacon. Now you say, ‘Hi Deacon I am....’" He gestured to her. She said nothing. "Now this interrogation would go a lot smoother if you worked with me here." Silence. He gave a loud sigh and loaded another syringe. She braced herself as he pulled the trigger and a second syringe lodged itself in her leg. 

What followed was a lot of screaming, as the pain from before rushed back three times worse. She could feel pain in every pore of her skin, as if she were sweating poison. She pounded the ground, every hit felt as though her fist was being shattered like glass against the linoleum, but at least it stopped her from pulling out her hair which felt like it was on fire. Everything was on fire. Breathing wasn’t going to fix this. 

“Let’s have a little give and take, I give you questions, and you get to take a shot of Med-X.” She nodded, and he pulled out a syringe, jamming into her leg. In moments the pain ebbed, the fire was now more like hot coals. 

“Question 1. Say an underground organisation with intentions to free synths wanted to break into the Institute, how might we do that?” 

“Oh easy. Knock 3 times and ask nicely.” Sole hissed. “There's a handshake involved too. Uncuff me and I’ll show you. Word of warning, it will feel a lot like a punch to the jaw.” He was unfazed. He silently loaded another syringe into his rifle. She swallowed, already flinching away from it. 

“Question two. How many of these do you think you can survive?” He asked, leveling the rifle at her. “Because the record so far is three. After the second shot, most just bang their head into a bloody pulp on the nearest hard surface. By three, their bodies spasm until their muscles rip apart their bones. I tested this on **a lot of Raiders**.” He wasn’t playing around now. To him, she was just another institute synth. 

“That would make this the shortest game of 20 questions ever.” Sole answered carefully. 

“Answer question number 1 and we’ll see about how long it lasts.” Deacon said. “So again, how do we get into the institute?” 

“Teleporter.” She answered through gritted teeth. “The only way in and out.”

“OK question 3, how do _you_ do it?” He pressed.

“I’m a special case. I can go where I want, when I want.” She replied.

“Question 4, what makes you special?” He continued. She pressed her lips into a tight frown, not that he could see it from behind her helmet. How much did he know? “Oh? Tired of the game already?”

“Not at all, just thinking.” She insisted. “I suppose what makes me special is my winning smile.” He was silent for a moment, maybe considering whether to shoot her or not.

“We’ll come back to that one. Question 5, who are you?” He asked instead. It hit her as hard as a syringe.

“I’m… My designation is S10-05.” She answered carefully. There was a flash of frustration on his face. “Why, have we met?”

“How is your son?” He asked, keeping his voice level. She took a breath, hoping that wasn’t enough to give her away.

“I don’t have a son” She replied softly. “I’m a synth.”

“Is that all?” Deacon asked in a low voice, drawing closer, a smirk on his lips. “Did they really wipe everything?” She was silent. She could have reached over to him then, grabbed the syringer and given him a taste of his own medicine. But she hesitated. He saw her hands move to the rifle, and he reeled back.

“Ooh oh you nearly had me going there.” He gave an empty laugh. “What is it with me and that voice, huh?” He adjusted his glasses. He knew who she was, and she knew** what **she was. Something she’d only found out a few days ago. That bastard.

“Question 7, let's have it.” She pressed, waving him on with her free hand. 

“Skipping one, aren't we?” He pointed out.

“So ‘how's your son?’ doesn't count?” She asked tiredly. He bristled a bit.

“OK question 7, sort of a part two to question four. Who are you in the institute?” He asked bluntly.

“Just another errand girl.” She answered bitterly. “If the higher ups tell me to go retain a synth somewhere, I go. If they tell me to blow up the prydwen for fun, I go and get my grenades.” 

“How long have you done that?”

“A week, synths in field don’t have a long life expectancy.” 

“And before that?” 

“Before that… I wasn’t alive.”

“You’re lying.”

“How could I?”

Deacon sat back. Silent for a moment. “So, you were just made by the institute, and that’s it? No pretend memories up in your head? Happy little backstory to keep you sane?” 

“That’s it. And you got it all in just eleven questions.” She replied evenly. “If we were playing fair, I’d get a few questions of my own.”

“I think I have a minute to humor you.” Deacon shrugged. “You get one question.”

“Why do this?” She asked, watching through the tinted visor of her helmet. “Why set a trap for a random synth?” He gave a heavy sigh. 

“So they did it. They used your recall code.” He muttered more to himself. He gave her a sidelong glance, not wanting to look her in the eyes. “She was never this good a liar.” Sole was silent. “You… Never mind, it's not important. Actually, it makes this whole thing a lot easier.” He took a deep breath and exhaled it, standing up. “Most of this was to see how much you knew about us, maybe your motivations. Overall, figuring out if I could let you live.” 

“That doesn't sound like good news for me.” She noted, looking up at him. He traded his rifle for a silenced 10mm at his hip.

“Considering you’ve killed 80% of the people I called friends, either directly or indirectly, this is good news for me.” He clicked off the safety. “I mean, if you remembered even a scrap of your old life and still did what you did, I would have shot you with syringes until you bludgeoned yourself to death.” He pointed the barrel at her skull. She should have been terrorfied, panicked, anything… But instead she was calm, maybe even numb to the reality of it. 

“You never answered me...” She breathed. It unnerved him to say the least. She looked down at the floor, closing her eyes, using her free hand to take off her helmet. “Why me?” She set the helmet on the floor beside her.

“Delaying it won't change things.” He warned. 

“Consider it a last request.” She said coldly, looking into his eyes. “Tell me a story.” He flinched, that got him.

“You want a story?” He gave a forced laugh, hands trembling as they held the silenced 10mm. “Sure, why not. Once upon a time, there was a very stupid railroad agent, and he was out snooping one day when he noticed the institute creeps were doing something around the old cryo vault. He’d been in before, saw the usual Vault tech horror story, with a few additions from the Institute. Everyone inside was_ dead. **Very dead.**_” He took a breath, stealing a look back at her. “But after the Institute clears out, suddenly a woman pops out. Someone who had been_ very _dead. So I watched her, tried to figure out what angle those lab coated bastards were pulling this time. What could they get out of putting a random synth out in the wastes? Especially one with a dead woman's face and memories.”

“Maybe they got bored of stapling babies together.” Sole guessed, keeping the tremors from her voice. 

“I thought that. It seemed weird to create a synth that seemed purpose built to find and destroy the institute. A mother looking for her child; there didn’t seem to be anything that could stop her.” Deacon noted. “And then I spent time with her. Whoever she was, she wasn’t a dead woman. She had all her memories, but she was something new...” He paused, but shook off the hesitation. “I made her an agent, used her, and hoped it would lead us to the Institute.”

“You knew what she was… Did you tell her?” Sole asked, knowing the answer.

“I almost did once, when she was dying. In the end I just lied to her again.” He replied. This got her. She had saved his life, and lay dying and he still hadn’t told her the truth…

“You’re telling me, you let an institute plant into your secret organisation, and everyone was fine with that?” Sole asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

“The boss wasn’t happy about it,”Deacon admitted, “But in the end, it's not like she was any different from the other synths from the Institute.” Each word stung, but without her helmet she couldn’t afford to let it show. “Besides, its handy keeping your friends close and enemies closer. Especially when they don’t realise which one they are. We had a betting pool on how long it would take for to find out what she was.”

“I bet that was hilarious,” Sole said with a bitter smile. “A synth that thought she was a mother? A widow? Even thinking she had friends...” Sole was breaking down. “And you lied to her about everything, even when she was dying. Dying for you-” She was cut off by rough hands hauling her off the ground, a fist gripping her uniform. Her wrist nearly snapped against the metal cuff chaining her to the table and she was suddenly staring into the furious face of Deacon. His sunglasses were askew, his eyes manic with fury like she had never seen. 

“What did you just say?” He snarled, face twisted with rage. She couldn't respond, she was in shock. “What. Did. You. Say.” He let go, letting her fall to the floor. She gripped her wrist, rubbing away the pain. “You weren’t recalled.” He was blind with anger, gun trembling in his fingers. “You killed those agents, knowing everything... You...” It was time to get it in the open, no more lying. To him or herself.

“Recalled isn’t the word for it.” She explained soflty. “The teleport messed up my body to the point of critical failure. They translated my memories to a new body, hoping to keep up the charade.” She shut her eyes, “It would have worked, if I hadn’t stumbled on their development log on me.” Her whole world had collapsed around her reading that damned tablet. “I’m model S10-05, prototype Gen 4 synth. It was a shock to say the least.”

“Must be what Frankenstein's monster felt like towards the end.” Deacon muttered unsympathetically. 

“Pretty close,” She admitted. “I was certainly filled with a desire to kill my creator.”

“You’re doing a pretty poor job so far.” 

“I had planned on changing that, if I lived through this encounter.”

“And if you don’t live through this?”

Sole was quiet. She’d had a very loose plan of attack so far. Gain Institutes trust? Check. Gain top clearance to Institute? Check. Use these things to destroy the organisation that had taken her son and killed both her husband and herself… A work in progress. 

“If I don’t, take my pipboy, it has a relay to the Institute. Tinker Tom might be able to reverse engineer it.” She answered, looking down at the peeling linoleum. “It won’t be hard if you can already mess with their signal.”

“Sure, and I’m sure it won’t also alert the Institute to our location, nice try.”

“You’re in Hangman’s alley.”

“How did you- Shit. I told Tinker not to leave that damned sign.” Deacon swore. “Does the institute- No, if they knew we’d be dead already.” He was quiet while he thought for a moment, then put down the 10mm. “So let’s talk.” 

“Before we do… Got anymore Med-X?” She asked, feeling the burning start to return. It made her want to peel off her skin and tear out her nerve endings. Deacon produced another dose and carefully injected it. It took longer for the pain to ebb this time. She sighed with relief.

“Did you find Patriot?” He asked, his voice low. 

“The teleport rearranged my organs, what do you think it did to the holotape?”

“What’s the story with tall, dark, and handsome?” 

“I got a thing for emotionally unavailable men in sunglasses.” 

At that he gave an involuntary chuckle, but he shook it off. He could see her properly now, broken and bleeding, in agony. It seemed she had a habit of ending up like that. 

“The teleport...Was it really that bad?” He asked softly.

“I don’t know, everything after the I got in was blacked out, but I hear I made it pretty far before hemorrhaging.” She replied quietly. “I feel bad for the person who had to clean that up…” 

“Looks like I lost some caps in the pool then…” Deacon looked away. “Tinker was so sure the matrix held…” 

“You know, I would have looked for Patriot, holotape or no, but my memory was pretty fuzzy when I woke up.” She continued, though weakly. “It still is actually, only seem to remember… Well… _You_.” The Med-X was fading again. “Hey, Deeks, not to be a bother but-"

“I’m out of Med-X.” 

“Crap…” She closes her eyes, the agony was exhausting. 

“Charmer...” Deacon started, but she put a hand up to stop him.

“Charmer’s dead...” She pointed out tiredly. “I saw her name on the board… Crossed out.”

“S10,” He started again, she didn’t stop him. “For what it’s worth. Not everything was a lie.”

There was a sudden shot to her already bruised legs, and then a beautiful numbness. She sighed happily, resting against the table she was chained to. She didn’t even mind the tightness in her chest closing in on her every breath. Her Pip-boy was gently removed, and she heard the static crackle of a stealth boy activate, followed by the soft pat of sneakers leaving the diner.

Sole lay there, hand chained to the table, breathing laboured, all the pain was a million miles away. If she could move the muscles in her face, she would have smiled. 

She didn’t even hear the crack of blue lightning outside, and the heavy footsteps of a Courser stepping towards her. By the time he reached her, she wasn’t even breathing.

\-------------------------------------------------------


	3. If I had a bullet for every mistake the whole world would be dead

_ **Day 10** _

She came to on her bed, hooked up to an I.V. and on a steady dose of Med-Ex and some other wonderful Institute drugs. There were other wires and tubes coming in and out of her, but thankfully nothing was shoved down her throat. Her Grandmother had died with one of those, she couldn’t even say goodbye at the end… Sole blinked a few times, looking around the room, it was her quarters in the Institute for sure. She was fuzzy from the drugs, but she was more together than the first time she woke up in this God-Forsaken place. She was pretty sure that meant she hadn’t died again. She was still S10-05. She doubted it was possible to even transfer again, unless they still had her brain somewhere in this lab… That was an unsettling thought. 

Then there was shift in the corner, a dark figure sat by the door. X6, but he looked different. He had no coat on, no sunglasses, and was wearing a simple institute shirt and jeans. Same as the other synths. _Ohno_. He looked exhausted, eyes almost sunken from sleepless nights, slouched over his knees. 

“6...” She breathed, voice raspy from lack of use. He jumped to attention, nearly stumbling over his feet to do so. 

“Ma’am,” He replied, eyes wide with a strange mix of relief and panic. “You need to rest.” She smiled weakly.

“Me?” She said, trying to sit up, trembling with the effort. “Looks like you need it more.” He coughed, looking away. “Hey, sit down.” She motioned to the edge of her bed. He raised an eyebrow at her like she’d suggested he strip naked and sing ‘Butcher Pete’. 

“I’ll stand, Ma’am.” He replied stiffly. 

“So, what did I miss?” She asked, resting against her pillows. “I see you got a new look. Personally, I think you should wear blue. It brings out your eyes.” _I need the name of whatever they have me on. _

“I was… I’m no longer a Courser.” He said, his voice broken. 

“Shit, 6...” She said, leaning forward in horror. Then anger. “Tell me who I have to yell at.” He was quiet. 

“It wasn’t...” He looked away, taking a breath. “I asked to be reassigned.” 

“What.” She asked dumbly. “That’s.. That’s crazy! You’re the best they have!”

“I nearly got you killed!” He snapped back, immediately reeling back, in shock with himself. “I… I… You could have… ” He was at breaking point. He closed his eyes, trying to compose himself. As he rambled, she carefully pried the I.V. from her arm, undoing the wires taped to her body, and reached out to him, taking hold of his hand. He froze.

“6, I didn’t die.” She said with a smile. “It was close, I’m sure, but I get the feeling you were the reason I made it at all.” He opened his eyes, disbelief in them. “I get it, if you want to leave the Courser program. But you always have a place here.” She let go of him, he pulled his hand back, cradling it in his other one, as if wounded. 

“I... ” He was at a loss. Sleep deprivation, stress, and now _this_. He had a lot to deal with. 

“Just give it some thought.” She said tiredly. “Now, get some sleep, you won’t be any use in this state.” He nodded silently, turning to leave, but lingering at her doorway. He considered turning back, saying something that had been on his mind since he stopped sleeping… But he wasn’t thinking straight. She was right, maybe with some sleep he could think more clearly. 

\--------------------------------------------------

_She was standing in Good Neighbor, under a clear night sky. So many stars, it felt as though it could swallow her… It started to get closer, and her stomach sunk. Her feet lifted off the stones, and she was falling into it. She swung herself down, trying to grab hold of the ground, flailing for anything to hold onto-when a hand gripped hers. She looked at it, following it up to the one who had saved her. **’Hancock’** She thought, careful not to whisper his name as he pulled her back to earth. She looked up at him, coal black eyes matching the sky, leathery skin, hollow sunken features… Yet she wasn’t afraid, her heart seemed to fly into her mouth, eyes tearing up. Happy, she felt happy. He smiled at her, still holding her hand. _

_“Miss me?” He asked, voice raspy but familiar._

“Yes I-!” She whispered-but the scene vanished and her eyes opened to the dark of her room. _No. No, take me back!_ She felt her eyes sting with tears. Who was that? Why don’t I remember them? _What did they **do** to me?_

\--------------------------------------------------

_ **Day 11** _

She scanned the tablet the next morning. She’d hidden it well, back in the service tunnels. She looked for mentions of her designation, her memory transfer, anything that could tell her what happened. But there was nothing about any alterations. In fact, it specifically mentions trying to view her memories with no luck. _I bet they’d love to get ahold of Amari, she could tell them everything in her noggin. _ So whatever was missing… It had nothing to do with the Institute. Probably. 

She was feeling better than she had before. Turns out those syringes Deacon stuck her with were full of some kind of nerve agent, and the other one was a paralytic sedative. It wasn’t something that could be fixed overnight, but keeping her in a medically induced coma had helped. She was sore in places where there was still some nerve damage, but a strict regimen of medication helped keep the pain in check. 

Just as well, because she needed to get back out there, and she needed to go _alone._

\--------------------------------------------------

Luckily for her, there was an entire room in the institute full of Wasteland clothing. There would have to be when you regularly sent in synths to infiltrate the population. It wasn’t hard for her to find a disguise that would fit in. 

She didn’t remember much of her visits to Good Neighbor. She recalled the Memory Den, and she vaguely recalled going there with a detective… It was hard to recall their face. 

Regardless, she remembered Doctor Amari. She had been there when she saw the Kelloggs memories... But there was so much missing. 

She relayed a mile from Good Neighbor, just to throw off anyone looking at her relay logs. She didn’t have her pip-boy anymore, so she was stuck using an Institute alternative. She was just lucky they didn’t stuff a Courser chip in her head. She adjusted her gas mask and hooded rags. She was just some drifter, nothing special. 

Good Neighbor was pretty much the same as last time, as far as she knew. It was evening by the time she got there, and the whole place was lit up. Christmas lights hung in the square, the lamps were glowing against the dying sunlight, and the neon signs buzzed with life. It certainly had a charm Diamond City was lacking, despite the roaming junkies and out-of-luck drifters. Men in suits carrying automatic weapons patrolled the area, keeping a particular eye on her. She supposed the gas mask was a bit suspicious. All she needed to do was make it to the Memory Den, from there she could make it to Amari.

Amari had to help her, she had to. 

“Hey, buddy, better take that mask off.” One of the men patrolling barked at her. “Mayor’s been upping the security, gotta make sure you’re not one o’ _them_” Well, that was a problem. Because she was one of _them_. 

“I’d love to, but, uh...” She started, deepening her voice. “I was in a pretty bad accident, and the mask is fused to me, right down to the bone.” The guy looked a little nauseous, but uncertain. Just then a hand landed on her shoulder, she looked over, ready to throw a punch. 

“It’s alright, chief,” They said, backing her up, “I was there when it happened. Trust me, you want the mask on.” The guy took one last look before nodding and going back to his patrol. Deacon’s hand stayed on her shoulder, his grip tightening. 

“You have 30 seconds to explain why you are here, before I rip that mask off myself.” He said in a low threatening voice. She shrugged off his hand and led him to an alleyway nearby. 

“Nice to see you too,” She murmured. He wasn’t amused. She lifted the mask, just enough to talk freely. “The Institute did something to my memories. I need to see Amari.” He looked her up and down, trying to tell if she was lying. She’d kept all his secrets so far, and she had given up her Pip-boy….

“Alright, but you’ll have to be more discreet.” He replied finally. “You can’t afford to pick a fight with everyone in the neighborhood watch.” She looked him over as best as she could through the mask. He was tired, like X6. He’d lost a lot in such a short amount of time, and he was barely holding it together. He started out of the alley, but she stopped him, a hand on his shoulder. He looked back at her in annoyance. 

“Deeks, it’s almost over.” She assured him. “I’m getting closer, and Amari might just find out what I’m missing.” She let go, and he nodded, maybe unconvinced. She sighed, following after him. She wasn’t all that great at pep talks.

\--------------------------------------------------

They headed straight to the basement, Irma barely looked up at them from her pre-war magazine. She was used to Deacon coming in and out with strangers. 

But Amari wasn’t expecting any ‘packages’, especially since the incident with the Brotherhood. 

“Hey Doc, gotta patient for you.” Deacon called, a trace of his old self coming through. Amari looked up, startled. 

“Deacon what are you-” Before she could finish, Deacon whipped off her mask like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat. It stunned Amari. 

“Tadah...” Sole said nervously. 

“I thought Charmer was-” The poor woman just couldn’t finish a sentence since they walked in.

“Charmer is dead.” Deacon cut her off sharply, making Sole wince. “This is S10-05.”

“My friends call me, uh… Actually I don’t have any friends.” Sole joked, but her heart was beating out of her chest. Amari pursed her lips in a way that reminded her of a certain other Doctor she knew… Two actually. 

“So what do you need from me?” She asked carefully.

“I have gaps in my memory...” Sole explained quietly. “I remember waking up, becoming General of the Minutemen, and then going around to Diamond City… Some Railroad stuff...” She remembered Deacon, just about everything to do with him. Unfortunately. _If nothing else, maybe they could take a few memories while they were at it. I’d quite happily forget the entire ‘Kellogg’ episode._

“Well, I’ll do my best, but I can’t promise anything...” She agreed unsuredly. “Do you have any clue what we are looking for?” Sole took a deep breath.

“I have a name...” She started with uncertainty. “Does _‘Hancock’ _mean anything?”

\--------------------------------------------------

Watching her memories was trippy to say the least. There was **a lot** she had been missing, and was still missing. She and Deacon were both in memory loungers, walking through what remained of her memories.

“This is… Unique.” Amari said, echoing into her memories. Sole was standing in the middle of a scene in the Third Rail, everything was still. “Your memories are different than a normal synths, but not quite human...” Sole looked around the scene, she was there, sitting at a bar drinking beer. How could she see herself in the third person? “It’s similar to Kellogg’s memory, but a little more intact.”

“Great, I love having things in common with that bastard.” She muttered. 

“Other than working for the Institute, retaining synths, and being an overall asshole?” Deacon asked. He was standing beside her, crossing his arms. 

“Remind me why I let you view my memories?” She asked, rubbing her imaginary forehead. 

“Because I trust you as far as I could throw a Super Mutant.” Deacon replied bitterly. “This is the only way to make sure you’re not hiding anything nasty.” She shrugged in defeat. He had an excellent point. 

“Oh, look at this!” Amari snapped in annoyance. “Those idiots tried to access your memories directly from the frontal lobe! Greatest minds in the Commonwealth-My Ass! Pardon my language.” The scene shifted, and the memory Sole was talking to a man at the top of the Third Rail stairs, a merc by the looks of it. “I, I didn’t do that.” Sole looked closely at the man, his well maintained goatee and mustache, a hat with ammo in it… 

“Who’s this clown?” Sole asked, turning to Deacon. He had to stifle a laugh. “I don’t like that response.” Deacon leaned back against the bricks of the former rail station.

“Oh, i’m sure it will come back to you...” Deacon smirked. “Hey Amari, look for anything referencing ‘Macready’.” The world swirled away, to reveal a dark lab, lit by broken fluorescent lights. The man was smashing the skull of a glowing feral with a microscope. She was holding her arms up to protect herself. The scene shifted seamlessly to a bar, the one she kept seeing in her dreams. Her heart fell as she watched the scene. She was holding him, looking into his eyes... They were dancing. An ethereal tune kept playing. 

“Looks like you have a thing for clowns.” Deacon joked, but she didn’t respond. She moved towards them, fingers moving over the man’s face.

“Macready...” She murmured. 

“Amari, can you look a week from now...” Deacon asked, the jovial tone gone from his voice. The scene shifted, back to the Third Rail. She was drinking, alone.

“What… What happened?” She asked, looking back at him. Deacon’s mouth was set in a firm frown. 

“He left, he had a kid...”

“Duncan..”

“You remembered?” 

She could only nod, looking wistfully at her drunken self. That’s when the scene shifted, but the next scenes were missing elements. She was talking to someone in the bar, but they were a shadow.

“Something’s wrong...” Amari observed with worry. “There are whole swathes of memories like this… ”

“What do you think it is, Doc?” Deacon called into the abyss.

“I’ve seen things like this, but with botched memory wipes.” Amari said, trying to think of an explanation. “It was as if someone was trying to erase quite a bit of your memories, I can’t find much more… Except… This.” The scene swirled again and now they were in the midst of shattered wood and broken concrete. The memory of Sole lying broken on a cement slab, Deacon was knelt beside her. They were silent watching their memory selves. Sole could see the blood pooling beside her memory self, broken and bleeding beside Deacon. She'd saved him from the same fate.

“I never...” Deacon started, still trying to keep it together. “I never thanked you…”

“For what?” She asked quietly, sitting on the slab of cement beside memory Deacon. Why did this have to be one of the few things she remembered? 

“For saving my life...” He replied, words coming out almost breathless. 

“Deacon...” She started, not daring to look up at him, “I would have always done it.” She looked closer at dream Deacon. “...You didn’t even cry for me… But I think I would do it again.” 

“I almost did when you...” He started, and the scene shifted to her last moments on the teleporter. She was looking straight at him. The freeze frame captured the green bolt of lightening just above her. Ready to destroy everything. 

“Ah,” Amari’s voice echoed again, intruding on their moment. “That would explain it.”

“Mind sharing with the class?” Deacon asked in annoyance.

“This is where the damaged memories end, and the rest are of her time in the Institute.” Amari started, the scene shifting to her waking up in Institute for the first time. “Her last moments created a flashbulb memory of you Deacon. And because she had that, it was easier for her mind to knit together the rest of her memories of you.”

“You’re kidding me.” Sole groaned, closing her eyes. “So just because this guy got my attention, he gets to be the focus of all my memories?”

“Try not to sound so happy about it.” Deacon said under his breath. 

“I’m afraid that’s the best explanation I have, but it seems to have worked to your benefit.” Amari tried to reassure her. “It seemed to help you reconstruct memories associated with him.”

“Like the Railroad.” She said annoyance, “Literally the most dangerous thing I could have remembered.” 

“The converse of this, is that there appears to be something that your mind is blocking out.” Amair noted. 

“Is it this ‘Hancock’ guy?” Sole asked tiredly. 

“You really don’t remember..?” Deacon asked in genuine disbelief. She shook her head. “Hey, Amari, I think we’re done here.” The world started to disappear around them. 

Sole woke up in her memory lounger, a little disorientated. The pod opened up with a hydraulic hiss. 

“Five more minutes, mom…” She mumbled, rubbing her eyes. Deacon was already outside his lounger. _Must be nice not having your brains looked around in. _ He held out a hand to her, a friendly smile on his face.

“Come on, sleeping beauty. Time to meet Prince Not-So-Charming.” 

\--------------------------------------------------

Sole was nervous to say the least.

“What’s he like?” She asked as they headed up the stairs and out of the memory den. 

“He’s like a raisin that stabs people.” Deacon replied offhandedly. “When he isn’t getting high that is”

“I have excellent taste.” Sole said, crinkling her nose in disgust. “You know, a good friend would have steered me towards someone more upstanding.”

“Well, Preston was taken” Deacon explained. “And you aren’t Piper’s type.” They crossed the street to the State House.

“What about Glory?” She pressed. His smile fell. “What? Not upstanding enough?”

“Glory’s dead.” He muttered grimly.

They got past the Watchmen outside the State House, Sole’s gasmask still in place. Didn’t want to make a stir just yet. 

“You might want to prepare yourself.” Deacon warned her. “There’s no telling what state we might find him in.” She nodded. She was ready for the worst. 

They walked carefully up the stairs, apprehension building with every step. _ This was a mistake. I should head back. Leave and never return…_ but her feet wouldn’t let her, they kept moving forward, until they were on the Mayor’s floor, smack in the middle of the StateHouse.

“-In the morning I’ll get in touch with Garvey. ‘Bout time we got behind the Minutemen.” A raspy voice ordered. “Strength in numbers and all that.”

“I agree, better to have the pawns on our side.” Another voice agreed, a woman. Deacon approached them first, walking confidently in.

“Anyone else you want to send invites to?” He asked cheerfully. “You know I got some good party tricks.” Sole followed behind him, just glancing at the figures in the office. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the ghoul, complete with red coat and classy hat. He looked irritated by Deacon’s presence, but not enough to kill him where he stood.

“Your invite must’ve got lost in the mail.” Hancock shot back. “Kinda hard to pin down an address for you guys.” Deacon nodded back knowingly. That’s when the ghoul looked at her. She felt her body stiffen, unable to take a single step closer.

“Who’s your friend?” He asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “They don’t seem to have any manners.” 

“Them? They’re just shy.” Deacon glossed over the subject. “Yeah, not too bright either. So about the Minutemen…” 

“Tit for tat.” The women replied sharply. “You can’t come in here asking for intel without giving us anything.” She tipped ash from the cigarette she was holding. It was hard for Sole to get a good look at her from inside the mask without blatantly staring. 

Nonetheless, Deacon relented.

“Well, word on the street is that a certain secret organisation has a mole in the institute.” Deacon answered, smiling casually. 

“That’s pretty useful information, if you can prove it.” The woman noted, taking a drag. Deacon looked at Sole, her stomach dropped, and she backed away from him, his hands already outstretched to rip off her mask. She shook her head, hands holding the helmet, until she was backed into a wall.

“You weren’t kidding,” Hancock observed, “They really are shy.” Deacon stopped short of her.

“C’mon S10, you gotta do it sooner or later. She was breathing hard inside her mask, almost getting light headed. 

“It’s a synth?” Hancock asked. _ **It’s** a synth._ That was a blow.

“You really know how to make someone feel welcome.” Deacon noted dryly, his hands returning to his sides. 

“Well, how do you know you can trust it-them, whatever.” Hancock demanded, spluttering in irritation towards the end. 

“Not sure if you remember what the RR is all about, but we kinda have to trust anyone willing to put their neck out to take down the Institute.” Deacon pointed out, though a quick glance to Sole meant he recognized his own hypocrisy. Hancock popped a tin of Mentats, downing a few, before sitting behind his desk.

“Alright, say we believe you. How much closer does that make us to burning the boogeyman to the ground?” He asked seriously, keeping a watchful eye over her.

“Well, thanks to this one, we reverse engineered a relay system, and when they’re ready, we can go in guns blazing and shoot our way to a happily ever after.” Deacon replied cheerfully. 

“Sounds almost too good to be true.” Hancock said, getting up now, prowling closer to her. “You’ve been awful quiet, what do you think?” 

“Oh don’t bother with-“ Deacon tried, but Hancock cut him off with a sharp look, and brandished an even sharper knife. 

“For a leak in the Institute, you sure aren’t talkative.” Hancock noted, holding up the knife to her. “Afraid I’ll bite?” He was close enough to her that she could see the stains on his coat, the cuts and scars that ran through his mottled skin, the dull stains of his knife… She would be damned if this piece of shit was going to try and intimidate her. She stood still as he stopped in front of her, until he reached for her mask.

She grabbed his hand reflexively, stopping it short, her other hand gripping his other wrist just in time, his blade pressed into her skin. He stared her down for a minute, his coal black eyes narrowing. 

“Kids, could you knock it off?” Deacon asked, tiredly. “Your mom and I have some things to work out.” Hancock spat in annoyance and dropped the knife, Sole let go of him. 

“Fine, fuck your secrets.” Hancock growled, walking back to his desk. Deacon gave her a look, if she wanted her memories back, she’d need to be on better terms with this guy. She sighed, and went to the desk, and held out a hand. 

“What? This some kind of Institute secret handshake?” Hancock asked skeptically. She kept her hand out towards him. 

“I think they want a truce.” Deacon interjected helpfully. Hancock rolled his eyes. “Look, just make up and hug.” Hancock sighed and looked at Sole. He took her hand and gave it a dutiful shake, but something about it surprised him. He looked down at her hand a moment, turning it in his own suspiciously. He looked back up at her, and pulled her into a sudden hug. She was stunned. This was going better than expected. She looked over at Deacon, who was smiling with a thumbs up- Which suddenly became more clear as her mask was ripped off. _Oh Shit. Oh Shit. OH SHIT. _ Hancock let go of her, backing away from her as if she were a particularly hideous Mirelurk King.

“Tadah...” Deacon muttered weakly, hand falling back down to his side. Hancock whipped back to him, fury rippling off the ghoul like radiation. She swore if she still had a Geiger counter it would be clickclickclicking. Hancock returned his glare to her, softening as he saw her face, eyes wide and biting her lip. 

“Sole...” He started.

“S10-05.” She corrected him, swallowing. Her throat felt very very dry. He closed his eyes. 

“Anyone want to fill me in?” The woman asked, the last cool head in the room. “You told me she ate it in the teleporter.”

“Charmer- Sole did die in the teleport.” Deacon explained slowly, watching Hancock carefully. “But she was a synth then as well.” 

“What.” The mayor asked, almost in horror. Sole watched him, his tired frame almost collapsing on a nearby sofa, eyes wide. The guy looked like he could use a drink. “No, no… She… She came out of that vault...”

“No, well yes.” Deacon said, taking a breath. It was getting harder to explain what he knew so little about himself.

“The Institute needed pristine, unirradiated cells to make their synths.” Sole cut in, eyes darting away as Hancock turned his attention back to her. “There was a family in that vault, a mom, and dad, and their baby. They shot the dad in the head, took the baby, and locked the mom back in her cryo pod. Only Vault tech hadn’t meant for someone to be frozen twice.” She shrugged. “So when the Institute wanted her back online, all they found was a frost burned corpse. So they made S10-04.”

“Sole.” Hancock seethed, she avoided his gaze. “Her name was_ Sole_. ” This guy was a lot nicer in her dreams. 

“I remember, man.” Sole said in annoyance. “I was her.”

“Well, you _don’t_ remember, actually.” Deacon interrupted, lowering his sunglasses. “That’s why we’re here.” She huffed, looking away. _Is it cliche to say I forgot?_ “S10 has some gaps in her memories, we’re hoping the good Mayor could help jog them.” 

“You’re sick.” Hancock seethed, glaring up at him. “You bring ‘her’ in here, you pretend like its nothing...” He rose from the couch, hands shaking. “And you want my help to- Christ, what is wrong with you?” He advanced on them. “You want me to take her out dancing on the balcony? Kiss her in some dingy trailer? Make love-”

“We got the gist, boss.” The woman cut in. She looked back at Deacon. “I think the answer he is looking for is ‘No’.” Sole swallowed again. This had been a mistake. What did she expect? Some kind of touching reunion with someone she barely knew? She picked her mask off the floor, which lay beside Hancock's knife. She picked it up gingerly, holding it up by its blade, and holding it out to Hancock. She didn’t meet his eyes as he snatched the knife from her. The edge nicked her fingers, small pearls of blood gathered at the cuts. She bit her lip and put her mask back on, clenching her fist. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but pursed his thin lips together. She stormed out of the room, feeling anger start to replace the cocktail of emotions she’d felt in that room. Deacon slowed her down with a hand, she glanced back at him. 

“Let me stop by Daisy’s. Get something for that hand, and then we’ll try something else to jog your memory back.” He assured her. 

\--------------------------------------------------

They sat on the overpass, the night sky above them. The stars were out, and laying on the broken highway made her feel as though she were falling into it. The Med-Ex helped. 

Deacon was just cleaning her hand with some vodka and patching it up with bandage. 

“We were up here once, weren’t we?” Sole mused, tracing the constellations with her eyes.

“Once, yeah.” Deacon nodded, preoccupied with her wound, and the fact they were far too high off the ground for his liking. 

“I don’t remember why.” She continued, “It feels like the more I try to get back, the more slips away. Like trying to remember a dream...” 

“Well, you can’t be too hard on yourself.” Deacon reassured her. “Technically it never happened to you.” He tightened up the bandage on her hand and tied it off. 

“Should I give up, then?” She asked wistfully. “I mean, it’s not like I’ll need to know this stuff when we raid the Institute.” There was a pause, as Deacon thought.

“You remember when I gave you that bull about me being a synth?” He asked, she nodded. It was a pretty stupid prank quite early in their friendship. “Well, it wasn’t all a lie.” She looked over, she wasn’t in the mood for another prank. “I’m not a synth, that part was a lie. But I couldn’t imagine a worse fate than being recalled.” He shuddered. “I’m not going pretend it’s all sunshine and rainbows up there, but it’s mine.” He looked down at the tarmac.

“I guess, but it’s not like it’s _All_ gone.” She pointed out. “I remember you, the RR, the Minutemen… Even some prewar stuff.” She closed her eyes, starting to feel dizzy staring at the sky. “What was up with that Macready guy?” She asked, vague memories drifting back to her. 

“I thought you remembered him.” He said in surprise. “You knew his kids name.” She massaged her temples, this was starting to give her a headache. Then Deacon had an idea. “Wait here five minutes, i’ll be back!” He patted her shoulder and took off down the over pass, sneakers tearing over the worn road. She sat up and looked back at him in confusion, but she was too tired to take off after him. And the aches in her body started to come back. She glanced around, Deacon had left the vodka. At least she wouldn’t be bored. 

\--------------------------------------------------

Deacon came back, dufflebag in hand. Sole hadn’t even made a dent into the vodka. 

“Deeks?” She asked, without turning around, holding the bottle beside her. 

“The one and only.” He replied, gingerly sitting beside her. “Sure you should be drinking that close to the edge?” 

“I’m hardly drinking,” She rolled her eyes. “Sipping more like.” He opened up the dufflebag and brought out an old radio. “Tired of my voice already?” He switched it on, turning over from some radio play. 

“-Ladies, I bet every one of you out there knows a man like the one Betty Hutton sings about... here's _ "He's a Demon, He's a Devil, He's a Doll._" 

“So I was married.” Deacon blurted, as the music started up. Sole looked back at him, eyebrows raised. It didn’t sound like a joke, and if it was, it was a poor one. She scooted closer to him. 

_Everyone tells me he's no good_

_He doesn't love me like he should_

_I would forget him if I only could_

_He's a demon, he's a devil, he's a doll_

“It was… A long time ago.” He continued, taking off his sunglasses, revealing tired eyes. She could see crows feet by the sides of them. “But i’m getting ahead of myself.” His eyes looked straight ahead, seeing something she couldn’t, reliving his own memories.

_That man can look me in the eye_

_And tell the biggest, sweetest lie_

_And I forget that lipstick on his tie_

_He's a demon, he's a devil, he's a doll_

“When I was a kid I started running with as gang, the U.P. Deathclaws.” She had a few jokes about that, but the words died in her throat. “Synth haters everyone of us. Always looking out for them, causing general destruction. You know, kids stuff.” He paused, swallowing. She offered him the vodka, but he waved it away. “One day we strung a guy up, thought he was really a synth… Looking back, I’m not so sure he was. Not that it mattered.” He glanced over at her, gauging her reaction. She didn’t say a word, just kept listening.

_Sometimes I make up my mind_

_That I'll stop being so blind_

_And tell him off real bad_

_But then he turns on those charms_

_And there I am in his arms_

_And I forget why I'm mad_

“I left after that, went into farming, and that’s… That’s when I met Barbara.” His jaw clenched, and he took a breath. “Being with her made me feel like the whole world had a chance. That one day we could climb out of this wreckage.” He gave a broken smile, “She could do that to people.” She had a feeling this love story didn't have a happy ending. She took a swig of vodka. “Turns out, my Barbara was a synth.”

_I ought to tell him "drop dead!"_

_But I keep loving him instead_

_My momma must have dropped me on my head_

_He's a demon, he's a devil, he's a doll_

“The Deathclaws found out before we even knew.” His voice hitched, he swallowed. “Who knows, they hung around the C.I.T. ruins enough, maybe they dug something up. Maybe an old database...” He slumped his shoulders. “They got to her while I was on a supplies run.” There was a pause, he closed his eyes. “They tore her to pieces, left her synth chip on her body...” His voice choked, she put a supportive arm around him. “Don’t really recall what happened next, but needless to say, there weren’t any ‘Claws anymore. Just some carved up corpses in letterman jackets.” 

_Sometimes he thrills me through and through_

_Sometimes he's sweet, sometimes he's true_

_Sometimes I wish he were in Timbuktu_

_He's a demon, he's a devil, he's a doll_

“Railroad heard what I did, figured I’d make a good ally. Not like I left anyone alive to tell them I used to be part of the gang I mauled.” He gave a shaky breath. “And I’ve been with them ever since. Never told a soul about my past.” He looked over at her, with tired blue eyes. “Until now.” 

_He says he'll call for me late at night_

_And take me out somewhere to dine_

_Then staggers in and sings "Sweet Adeline"_

_He's a darling, he's a dreamboat, he's a dog_

“No one?” She asked,

“Yeah, I get it, not very believable.” He gave small choked laugh. “But yeah, never told anyone. I don't even know why I lie any more. But I can't tell the truth. Everyone - Tom, Dez, you, even that asshole Carrington - they deserve to be in the Railroad. ” She could see tears of desperation start in his eyes. “And I don't. I'm everything wrong with this whole fucking Commonwealth. You're the only friend I got. I don't deserve you being OK with this.” He clenched his fists together at his sides, frustrated with himself, or maybe with her silence. “Hell, I'm not even asking for it. But I figured you should know.” His hands relaxed and he sighed. 

_I had the measles at two, the chicken pocks and the flu_

_My whooping cough was grim_

_I had the itch and the mumps, the poison ivy and clumps_

_To top it, now I've got him_

“I’m really your only friend?” She asked, this time he gave a more genuine laugh.

“That’s your only question?” He asked incredulously. “Your whole take away from that speech?” She took her arm off his shoulder. “Yes, it’s true. It’s all true, but I guess if you want it to come down to anything, that’s the part that matters. You’re my friend.”

“Then that’s all I need to know.” She answered simply, taking a sip of vodka. “You know me, you know what I did, who I am, and you only tried to kill me once.” 

“Only once you know of.” He pointed out, some of his jovial nature coming back. 

_He's a palooka, he's a brute_

_He drives me crazy but he's cute_

_Why do I love a guy I ought to shoot_

_He's a demon, he's a devil, he is a doll_

“So, is Deacon your real name?” She asked, as the music faded away. He smirked.

“What, you think i’m just give everything away now?” He asked, putting his sunglasses back where they belonged. 

“I guess not, I just thought since we are friends...” She mused, he chuckled, that was a low blow. 

“And that was Betty Hutton folks, sounds to me like she should really get some help...” Travis’s voice cut into the their conversation. “Next up, the spell that’s swept the Commonwealth, the most requested song by far, ‘Witchcraft’!” Deacon turned the radio up.

“There it is, knew it would only be a matter of time...” He murmured, “He usually plays this stupid song at night.” The words seemed to drift over her, she felt lightheaded…

\--------------------------------------------------

_ **A long time ago...** _

__

_“MacCready! Is good to see you, tovarisch. How is Lucy? She still as beautiful as I remember?”_

……...

__

_“I'm sorry, mouth tends to be faster than brain. Tell you what, I give you a drink on the house... for old times.”_

Vadim’s greeting had brought a damper on the celebration, Sole could see the brightness in Mac’s eyes dim at the mention of her name, and more so when he had to explain her passing. Still, it was a celebration, and when he turned back to her, he was giving her his best tight-lipped smile.

Sole sat beside MacCready, sipping at her Nuka cola. Mac, on the other hand, had a shot of whiskey. His second one since they stepped in, trying to ease the nerves he felt every time his eye met her’s.

“Here’s to us, good work partner.” Sole said, holding up her Nuka cola, to which MacCready clinked his shot glass and downed it. She took a sip from her bottle and smiled at the merc who was avoiding her eyes by gazing at the bottom of his shot glass.

“Partner, huh?” He mused thoughtfully.

“Would you prefer ‘sidekick’?” Sole asked, taking another sip. “All the best hero's have em.” MacCready laughed, reminiscing over her time as the Shroud. Especially their time in Hubris comics.

“Nah, Kent’s taken that role. I guess partner will have to do.” He said. “Besides, I was just going to say that I liked the ring of it.”

"‘Mr. Lone wolf mercenary likes having a partner?” She asked with a smile, putting down her drink. He went a bit red.

“Well, yeah, it's been nice having someone to watch my back out there.” He explained. “Not a lot of folks have someone they can rely on like that…” He was rambling. He didn't have the words to say what he felt. Honestly, what do you say to the person who saved your hide from gunners, found the cure that saved your kid, and hadn't even asked for so much as a ‘thank you’. 

Vadim set another shot of whiskey down on the counter, giving him a knowing look, raised eyebrows and a smile. He probably knew before MacCready how far in love he had fallen for Sole. But it was difficult.

Last time he’d been in here was with Lucy… And maybe that’s why he brought Sole here. To signal a change, a healing… He had to let go of Lucy. Never to forget her, but to stop looking back at all the happy memories where he should have been making new ones.

“You gonna drink Nuka Cola all night?” MacCready asked. “That stuff will rot your teeth, trust me.” He smiled, but didn't dare part his lips. It was the only thing he was self conscious about.

“Well if it makes my smile half as pretty as yours, I’ll be lucky.” She joked, finishing the bottle. He chuckled, she almost sounded serious. She was excellent at flattery, especially when it took the subject away from alcohol. Drinking was a habit she was trying to kick, especially with MacCready around. 

Just then the song on the radio finished, and Travis came on. There was a collective groan through out the bar.

“That Travis! He is problem.” Vadim exclaimed, slamming a hand on the bar. He turned to the sniper. “MacCready, you take care of problems, yes?”

“Not tonight, Vadim.” MacCready said tiredly. “We’re celebrating.” Vadim’s expression changed back to cheerful, clapping his hands together.

“Ah good, can wait then. No work tonight, only pleasure.” He assured him with a wink. Mac rolled his eyes and turned back to Sole, but was a little distracted by the radio.

“So, we were saying…” He continued, trying to remember the train of conversation.

“My drinking problem.” She replied, holding up the empty nuka cola bottle.

“Yeah right. Of course, you should unwind tonight, maybe spice up your usual with a shot of rum.” MacCready went on, then paused, listening to the radio. “Hey did you catch what he just said?” Sole rolled her eyes.

“Probably something about another song, you know, the same five that have been around for centuries.” She guessed. “Maybe mentioning something newsworthy, and explaining the events poorly.” MacCready laughed, nodding in agreement. It was a pretty accurate description of Travis’s broadcasting style.

“Yeah you’re probably right…” He agreed, but kept an ear out for it anyway. Sole smiled at him. He’d given her a pretty amazing day. Coming to Diamond city was completely out of left field, pun intended, but Mac insisted. He said he hadn't been in awhile, and it would be a sort of thanks for everything.

She would have been fine with just a quiet night at the Third Rail, I mean they had just come from Green tech with the cure for Duncan. A quiet night would have been just as nice. But admittedly, a night out on the town in The Great Green Jewel of the Commonwealth was good too. She’d even been able to catch up with Piper and Nick, while MacCready kept himself out of trouble elsewhere. He wasn't exactly their favorite gun for hire.

He’d taken her to power noodles, while she reminisced over the instant noodles she'd had prewar. It was a comfort food she’d had often as a child, fresh food being a bit more expensive than they could afford.

_“Why was that?”_

_“Well, fuel shortages hit hard at first. And things have to get from the field to the store somehow. After a while people grew their own, or the stores sourced more locally… But mostly they just processed everything until it didn't need an expiry date. Cheaper than stocking something perishable.”_

And when they’d eaten, and taken a stroll by the water, he’d brought her here, to the Duggout Inn. So far she liked it.

“Hey!” MacCready shouted, the noise pulling Sole from her thoughts. “Turn it back on!” She turned to see MacCready up and confronting a guy near the radio. The guy looked like he hadn't stepped out of Diamond city his whole life. Not a scratch on him, with a potbelly that screamed ‘fancy lad snack cakes’.

“No way, pal. Travis is giving me a headache.” He grumbled, guarding the radio. Sole hadn't even realized it was off, and it did make a nice change.

“C’mon, switch it on. He's only on for a few seconds.” MacCready urged.

“Oh so we can hear the same damn songs over again? They make it worse!” The man argued. Sole knew this was escalating, and both of them would be thrown out if she didn't do something. She pulled out tube of lipstick she kept for special occasions. A sultry shade of red always did wonders for situations like this.

She slid off her barstool, letting her heels hit the floor with a sharp click, like a cocked revolver. MacCready looked back, wide eyed, he hadn't meant to get her involved. The other guy looked over as well, his jaw almost falling to the floor. She smiled warmly at the man, brushing past MacCready entirely.

“Hey there handsome…” She said, her voice an octave higher than usual. “You got a headache?” The guy shut his mouth, nodding. She got closer, running her fingers over up his shoulder, along his neck; her nails softly grazing his skin. The man was smiling, eyes starting to hang heavy. She took his hands and moved him to the couch. “Oh it must be because you are so sleepy, you poor thing. Sit down here…” She pulled him over to the couch, he practically fell into it, and was immediately out cold.

Her fingers moved to her purse, tucking away the spent knockout syringe back into the lipstick tube, it could still be useful later.

She turned to MacCready, who was still reeling, face bright red all over. She cleared her throat to get his attention, and pointed to the radio. He snapped out of his trance and nearly fell over himself to put the radio back on. It was just Travis again. “And that was… Was… Billie Holiday… I think…” The voice on the radio stuttered. “Now… uh.. we have a… well sort of um.. a request.” MacCready breathed a sigh of relief. Sole gave him a questioning look, but he ignored it. “...Got a new.. uh… a new song! I mean… Finally! Any way… this one is for… for… The Vault Dweller?” Sole’s heart beat fast, now she was smiling at the radio too. “Well… Here’s ‘Old Blue Eyes’ with ‘Witchcraft’... Must have been a bit magic to make it here… hehe.. Right?” The music started to play, and Sole’s heart leapt, turning to MacCready.

“How….?” She breathed, tears starting to well up in her eyes.

_Those fingers in my hair_

_That sly come-hither stare_

_That strips my conscience bare_

_It's witchcraft_

MacCready just smiled, whatever clever things he'd rehearsed before were gone now. He could only watch as she smiled up at him. Then she took his hand and pulled him close to her, dragging him into a dance. 

_And I've got no defense for it_

_The heat is too intense for it_

_What good would common sense for it do?_

“Ooh no, I can't…” He tried, but ending up awkwardly dancing along, letting her lead him as they slowly moved to the music. 

_'Cause it's witchcraft_

_Wicked witchcraft_

_And although, I know, it's strictly taboo_

Sole giggled as MacCready kept treading on her toes, muttering hurried apologies every time. He was so sweet when he got flustered like this. 

_When you arouse the need in me_

_My heart says yes indeed in me_

_Proceed with what you're leading me to_

“You still haven’t told me how you got that song…” She whispered, still smiling. 

“You remember Trinity Tower?” He replied softly, smiling as he started to get the hang of the steps. She nodded, wondering what that had to do with anything. 

_It's such an ancient pitch_

_But one I wouldn't switch_

_'Cause there's no nicer witch than you_

“Well, I may have found a holotape while poking around that GNR station…” He continued. She gapped at him, how had he kept that a secret for so long? 

_'Cause it's witchcraft, that crazy witchcraft_

_And although, I know, it's strictly tabooooo_

_When you arouse the need in me_

_My heart says yes indeed in me_

_Proceed with what you're leading me to_

She rested her head on his shoulder he stiffened, but kept up the steps as best he could. He glanced down at her, and gave a soft sigh. She looked gorgeous tonight, draped in that blue sequined dress… The very one she’d gotten from that idiot they’d rescued from Trinity. 

_It's such an ancient pitch..._

_But one that I'd never switch..._

_'Cause there's no nicer witch than you…_

The music finally faded, and Sole stilled their dance, but still rested against him. He stood there, unsure. He didn’t want to move her, she seemed so happy, but people were staring at them. He gave a soft cough. She looked up at him, eyes wet and shining with tears.

“Oh crap, hey, are you ok?” He asked, taking her face in his hands and wiping away the tears without thinking. She gave a short snorting laugh, letting go of him and wiping the rest away herself.

“Yeah, it’s fine.. I just…” She was at a loss for words. “What are the odds…”

“Odds of what?” MacCready smiled. “Of finding your favorite song in an old radio station a thousand feet in the air? Yeah, I didn’t think the super mutants even liked Sinatra.” She giggled, and it sounded like the broken music of an old wooden wind chime.

“No, of me finding you.” She answered, looking up at him from heavy lidded eyes. He swallowed. “How did I find someone so wonderful in this godforsaken wasteland… And just when I needed them most...” He bit his lip. She looked up, seeing he was tongue tied. She gave a soft exhale, almost disappointed. “We should get back to our drinks, don’t want Vadim to get lonely up there.” He looked over at the bar, Vadim had the biggest grin imaginable and off to the side, even his ‘stick-in-mud brother’ Yefim harbored a small smile.

They moved back to the bar slowly, more drifting than walking. When they returned to their seats, things felt different, lighter. Even the other residents seemed less grouchy, some even with dreamy smiles on their face. 

“MacCready, you come here more often.” Vadim chuckled. “Good for business.” He put down fresh drinks for both of them. He lowered his voice. “On the house, do not tell Yefim. Will get no end of lecture.” He gave a conspiratorial wink. “But is getting late. Might want to speak with him for a room. Best rooms in Diamond city.” Then he gave a sharp laugh. “Only rooms in Diamond city.” Now Sole was going red. That was right, they’d need to bed down eventually. “Oh, but do quickly. Only one room left...”

Hours past, finally they said Goodnight to Vadim. MacCready and Sole went to their designated room, room two.

Sole had stayed on Nuka Cola all night, only needing a sip of Mac’s whiskey to confirm that she still hated the taste. He fumbled with the room key, having apparent difficulty with the lock.

“Maybe I should have cut you off.” Sole joked, taking his hand and helping him unlock the door. Her fingers around his hand were a surprise, her gentle grip aiding him to turn the key, then open the door. He felt his insides twist as she brushed past him to get inside, his feet frozen to the spot.

He was actually uncomfortably sober, he hadn’t touched his drink since they returned to the bar from their dance. It wasn’t the drink that had him light headed, it was her. He finally stepped through the door to see the dingy inn room. The bed looked slightly less stained than most, but his stomach fell when he saw no couch.

“I.. uh… I can take the floor…” He stammered. Sole raised an eyebrow, smirking.

“Right, so I can listen to you complain how much your back hurts tomorrow?” She asked knowingly. “Besides, if you don’t spread out like a jerk, there should be enough room for both of us.” He swallowed. If this was a test, he was going to fail. 

“If you’re sure…” He said nervously, he knew he wasn’t going to sleep a wink either way. His head was buzzing. He leant against the wall and started taking off his boots, then shrugged off his jacket. Nothing else though, he was going to need as many layers between them. He took a breath. This was fine. They were just two people, sleeping next to each other. They were adults, it was fine. Just _dandy_. 

When he looked back up at Sole, he froze. She was facing away from him, working on a fasten on her dress at the back. The material draped over her frame, pouring over every curve on her body. _This is not fine._

“You, uh, want me to go...” He asked, face glowing red, trying to tear his eyes off her. “Not sure if got pajamas or...” She looked back over her shoulder at him, her eyes and that come-hither-smile shut him up. Finally her fingers caught the clasp, unhooked it, letting the whole thing slip to the floor. She certainly wasn’t wearing any pajamas under it.

“Oh… Fuck.” He breathed. She turned to him again, wearing nothing but her perfect smile… 

“Language, Bobby...”

\--------------------------------------------------

Opening her eyes, she was back on the overpass. The song was over, long over. Deacon switched off the radio, watching her carefully.

“So, Mac...” She started slowly. “He uh, he wasn’t bad.” Deacon’s serious expression broke into a smile, shaking his head. “And he… Wow.” She looked at him. “How’d you know the song would work?”

“Lucky guess...” He shrugged his shoulders. It clicked.

“You were there.” She blurted. 

“Was not.” He tried, but he was already out of practice with lying. 

“You’re unbelievable.” She muttered, taking another drink, the acrid taste worth the soft buzz running through her. “Got any more tricks like that? Gonna push me off the overpass? Maybe that’ll help me figure out what happened when you took me to Diamond City.”

“You don’t… You don’t remember anything?” He asked seriously. “Not even Nick?” 

“Who?” 

“Oh man, you are missing a lot more than you think.”

\--------------------------------------------------

_“You could have handled that better.”_

_“It wasn’t her, Fahr.” _

_“You think so?”_

_“It was an Institute clone wearing her face.”_

_“So was the woman you fell for.”_

Hancock lay on the couch, staring up at the stained ceiling. He was sober, Fahrenheit made sure of that. 

_“That was different.”_

_“Was it?”_

_“Yea and you know it.”_

_“Because she was as in the dark about it as you?” _

_“Don’t pull that. It’s not her. She doesn’t even remember me.”_

_“So this is an ego problem?”_

He closed his eyes, trying to block out the image of her, the fear and anger in her eyes…

_“Sole is dead. You heard them.”_

_“She was dead when you met her.” _

Hancock turned over, burying his head into the rotten sofa cushions. 

_“What’s it matter now?”_

_“Nothing, I suppose. Just thought you should keep an open mind.”_

_“My mind couldn’t be more open if you wrenched it with a crowbar.”_

_“Don’t tempt me.”_

He finally sat up, rubbing his eyes. He couldn’t sleep, not with those words running through his head. He only found out she was dead a few days ago. Now she was… Less dead? More dead? And she hated him. He buried his head in his hands. God, he needed something to take the edge off. 

Fahr was out of the room, doing some recon to find out more about _S10_. Maybe he could take a quick hit, just to relax a little… Fred had cooked up something new the other day, he could give it a little spin...


	4. Wolves in synthetic suits

_ **Day 12** _

She relayed back, she couldn’t risk anyone getting suspicious, they might start wondering where she was. She could still feel the warmth of the vodka in her system as she entered her quarters, stripping off her Wasteland disguise. She needed a shower. She hummed a little tune as she moved to the bathroom, tossing the mask to the tiled floor, along with the rest of the wretched outfit. She switched on the hot water, smiling dreamily as she stepped in. 

“_Those fingers in my hair,_” She sang softly, letting the water run over her, the words coming more naturally than anything else. “_That sly come-hither stare…_” She worked the shower gel over her, washing away the smell of Good Neighbor off her. “_That strips my conscience bare, It's witchcraft…_” She closed her eyes, sighing in the sweet scented steam. She wondered if it was worth going to sleep, it’d be morning soon. 

She turned off the water with reluctance and grabbed her towel off the rack and wrapped it around herself. She was still humming as she walked out of the bathroom, drying off her hair with a hand towel. She flopped down on her bed, neatly made with fresh sheets. This was going to be a hard life to give up. 

“Long night, Ma’am?” A voice asked from the dark corner of her room. Her blood chilled in her veins. She sat up, clutching the towel to her. Sitting in the chair beside her door was X4-18. He was holding X6’s broken sunglasses, almost admiring them. “It looked as though you made a solo trip to the surface.” He crushed the glasses in his hand, making her flinch. “Makes sense, you haven’t exactly had a reliable partner since you took up with the_ reject._” He stood up, tossing the broken shards to the ground. “Ayo suggested I accompany you from now on. To keep you from potential harm.” He gave a dark smile. “Wouldn’t want to jeopardize the future of the Institute, now would we?”

“Is that all?” She asked, her face a mask of professional distance, despite wearing nothing but a towel. It didn’t fool him though, he knew he’d caught her off guard. 

“For now, Ma’am.” He replied, arms behind his back. “I’ll report to you nice and early, so rest up. Ayo has a special assignment for _us_.” He turned and went to the door, sliding it open. He took one last look back, a smirk on his face, before disappearing down the hall. The door slid closed, and she curled up on the bed. Shaken.

The world seemed so much simpler when she was just a crazy 200 year old housewife looking for an infant.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t long before she awoke to a sharp knock at her door. She buried her face into her pillow. The door slid open.

“It’s time to report in.” X4-18’s voice came in sharply. She was twisted into her bed sheets, drowsy, and annoyed. The shock factor of him seeing her indisposed had worn off. 

“Five more minutes, asshole.” She muttered into her blankets. 

“I’m sure you never spoke to the reject like that.” He scoffed, taking a seat by the door. 

“6 never woke me up before noon.” She grumbled. 

“It’s after noon.” He replied coolly. She glanced at the digital display on her bedside table. 13:05. Damn it he was right. She sat up, pulling the blankets around her. 

“Any reason you feel like getting the show for free?” She asked, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Doubt Ayo or Father would approve.” He laughed.

“They probably wouldn’t approve of your recent activity on the surface either.” He replied, “Consorting in Memory Dens, drinking in high places...”

“Sounds like a lot of speculation and hearsay.” She responded coldly. “Nothing that would stick.” 

“True, but if I keep a close eye on you, it’ll pay off eventually.” He shrugged. 

“You watch any closer and I’ll get the wrong idea.”

“Don’t make me gag, I’d rather not indulge in a reject’s reject.” 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

They arrived at Synth Retention, with Sole looking as though years had been taken off her life. If she had to hear one more snide comment from this walking pile of trash, she would shoot herself. Ayo was in his office, typing something or other into his terminal. When he looked up, he forced a smile. Sole didn’t need bother.

“Ah, thank you for coming.” He said, standing up from his terminal. “I was hoping you would assist us with an issue.” 

“Let me guess, somebody keeps eating your labeled nutrition packets out of the office fridge.” Sole guessed. “I mean, you wrote your name on them, can’t anyone read?” Ayo crossed his arms and frowned, the more natural state of his face. 

“No, and I would appreciate if you took the matter more seriously.” Ayo scolded. “This is about the number of synths escaping in the past months.”

“So we’re actually doing something about that now?” Sole asked with mock shock. “I was convinced this Bureau was just where the Institute stored it’s supply of assholes.” Ayo’s blood pressure was rising, but he knew better than to rise to her mocking. X4 looked amused at the interaction, despite him being the main asshole.

“Yes. Our synth scavenging teams on the surface have been losing more and more gen 3’s.” Ayo continued through almost gritted teeth. “After some digging, I found that it was because somebody in the Institute has been helping them escape.”

“And once you figured out it wasn’t me you figured you’d call me down to plug your leak.” Sole surmised dryly. 

“I… Had some suspicions. But It didn’t take long to narrow down the pool of suspects.” Ayo glossed over the accusation. “Somebody in Robotics has been changing surface team assignments from the approved synths, to flight risks. That was something that I felt was a bit above you.” Sole smirked, finally Ayo took a dig back at her. 

“Robotics, huh?” Sole mused. “Anyone in mind?”

“Alan Binet.” Ayo spat the name. “I am all but certain, not only does he have the clearance to do it, but his sympathies towards them are certain.” Sole hadn’t really taken the time to acquaint herself with many of the Robotics researchers, but she’d met Alan in passing. Nice enough guy, he had a son her age. He seemed pretty good for the crime. Maybe too good.

“But he covers his tracks too well.” Ayo continued. “I can’t approach him without arousing suspicion, and I couldn’t send one of my Coursers alone to find proof…”

“Right, neutral third party needed.” Sole rolled her eyes. She was used to this. “Leave this with me and I guarantee the culprit will be held accountable for their actions.” 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

Sole felt sick walking into the Robotics lab. On great suspended structures, synths were being created. First a giant lathe spun their skeleton, then muscle, finally skin… All before her eyes. She paled, holding her arms to her chest. That was her. She must have come from one of those at some point, or something similar. She took a breath. She had to hold it together. 

“Feeling ill, Ma’am?” X4 asked, his smarmy voice delighting in her discomfort. 

“Yeah, I think extended exposure to your bullshit is finally getting to me.” She grumbled. 

Alan Binet was overseeing the creation of one Synth, monitoring vitals, chemical production, etc. He heard her heavy footsteps on the metal floor and looked over with a smile. He was always happy to see her. One of his better creations, she supposed. 

“Sole, nice to see you today. What brings you down here? He asked cheerfully. 

“Just familiarizing myself with the individual divisions, gotta know everyone when I become Director.” She lied with a tight smile. His own grin faltered, he glanced at X4 standing behind her. 

“Huh, well that’s… Great news.” He nodded. “I better get back to, uh, well work. See you around.” She nodded back and he anxiously returned to his task. Suspicious, but not exactly proof. 

“You have a way with intellectuals.” X4 purred. She was counting the seconds until she could personally choke the life out of him.

“I’m better at talking to people in my crosshairs, you wanna chat?” She asked bitterly, hands on her Combat Shotgun. _Christ, I can’t wait to redecorate this place with your brains. _

She slowly strolled around the robotics lab, watching out for an unguarded terminal. X4 was at least smart enough to know she wouldn’t uncover much with him over her shoulder, so he took to badgering the other researchers. 

She finally found an unguarded terminal, blinking green screen inviting her to its secrets. She swiftly sat at it, ready to read every boring morsel of information. But she had a sinking feeling Alan wasn’t behind the disappearances. She’d overheard him in the labs, discussing the synths with colleagues. To him, they were precious, maybe even people to him. But that’s all the more reason he wants them to be in the Institute. It was safe down here, and a living hell up there.

She logged in with some trepidation. First the access logs, that would tell her who was changing the shift crews. It seemed Alan installed a new operating system, and since had indeed been updating the roster for the surface crew. So far it was checking out just as Ayo had said. Clearly he’d done more digging than he’d let on. But there was one place Ayo couldn’t dig around, and that was likely where she would find the hard proof. The Binet residence. 

“Found anything, Ma’am?” A voice a little too close to her shoulder asked. _Don’t kill him. There are witnesses. _

“Yeah, I did.” She answered between gritted teeth. “You mind backing up? I get stabby around idiots.”

“Don’t worry, X6 is on gardening detail.” He assured her, an impish grin on his face. She stepped back, hoping to tread on his toes, but he had Courser reflexes and side stepped her with ease. “Careful Ma’am, you don’t want there to be an accident. That might be a regrettable mistake.” His breath was in her ear. 

“The only mistake is that you are still breathing.” She hissed, heading out of the Robotics lab. He followed closely behind. 

“That’s not very companionable, Ma’am.” He noted, keeping pace with her. She seethed as they headed towards the Binet’s living quarters. “We’re partners on this, remember?” 

“Bullshit.” She shot back. He chuckled, and she wanted to wipe the grin off his face with steel wool and kerosene. A flash of red hit her vision, heart pounding, light-headed. 

_Shit._ She stopped in her tracks, feeling the pounding in her head, fists clenched tight. She had to get away. Flight before fight.

“Something I said?” He asked innocently, as she fled towards the empty halls towards the Synth quarters. She felt like she was going to pass out, running towards the end of the hall, frantically opening the service closet. She closed it behind her, tears sprang to her eyes. She punched the walls hard, the aluminum panels dented beneath the force, she tore the closet apart, dust covered sheets fell to her feet, grimy cleaning fluid bottles, clattering down with the hand brushes. She wanted to scream, biting into her sleeve and letting out a muffled cry, before sinking to the closet floor, defeated. X4 had undone years of anger management in a matter of hours. And she had let him. 

She wanted to stay there forever. Amongst the dirt and debris. She rested her head in her arms. 

The closet door slid open, the light from the hall making her sick.

“Ma’am?” A gentle voice asked. She looked up in surprise, to see X6. He was looking down at her in concern and confusion. She practically leapt up and hugged him tightly.

“Ma’am, please release me.” She let go, breathless with relief. She wiped her eyes, smiling up at him. He still wore his white institute shirt, it fit more snug than it would have on other synths. 

“6, how’d you find me?” She asked, still smiling. 

“I saw you approaching this area at speed.” 

“6, it’s just us, talk like it.”

“It’s not.”

He was right, they were being watched here. She shook her head, taking a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry, you’re right.”She agreed. She looked at him again, it was hard not seeing him in his coat and sunglasses. “Are you alright?”

“Ma’am, no offense,” He started, “But I just found you crying in an abandoned service closet. Your situation seems more pressing.” She shrugged, trying to force a smile. “Ma’am, you’re shaking.” He noted in concern. She heard the heavy steps of Courser boots in the distance, she shrunk into the closet, pressing against the wall. 

“I’m fine, I just like the ambiance here.” She said softly, still forcing a smile. X6’s expression darkened. 

“What happened.” He pressed.

“Nothing. It’s fine. I’m fine.” He stared her down, his icy blue gaze drilling into her. She looked away, relenting. “Well, I got assigned another Courser...” 

“What did he do.” X6 asked, his voice grim, eyes narrowed. She swallowed.

“Nothing, he... He’s just an ass.”

“If he hurt you, we have to tell the Director-” He turned, ready to march up to Father himself.

“No!” She tugged on his shirt, pulling him back. “You can’t- I can’t...” She let go, all resolve crumbling away. “He hasn’t… He hasn’t hurt me. I don’t think even_ he’s _**that** stupid...”

“Why are you hiding?”

“He won’t leave me alone. I just needed to be alone...”

“Then forgive the intrusion.”

“You could never intrude.” 

There was a pause, before she took a breath and composed herself. She had to go back to X4 eventually. She’d have to figure out a way to find the Institute leak without him blabbing it to Ayo. 

“Thanks for the talk 6, it really helped.” She said gratefully, though her forced smile had fallen to a tired frown. “I better get back...” 

“Ma’am, if it is affecting your work to this degree, I suggest you ask for reassignment as soon as possible.” X6 said seriously.

“I... Can’t...” She said, defeat apparent in her tone.

“If it’s blackmail, I am certain Father would understand.” X6 pointed out. She gave him a sad smile and shook her head.

“See you around, 6.” She said with a wave, heading back towards the main halls. He watched her go, powerless to help. His cowardice costing her further. He turned to the war-torn supplies closet, and started to arrange it to its previous state. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

She managed to get to the Binet residence without picking up her Courser tag along. She knocked on their door, looking over her shoulder. It opened to reveal Alan’s son.

“Oh hey, you’re.. Her.” Liam Binet managed as he answered the door. “Can I help you?” Sole took a deep breath, how do you tell someone their father was a traitor to everything he knew? Or at least was suspected of such. It was probably best to be honest, this kid wasn’t an idiot.

“I’ll be straight with you, Ayo thinks your dad is helping synths escape.” She explained awkwardly, not looking him in the eye. Liam gave an exasperated sigh.

“This again? I told Ayo that Dad has nothing to do with it!” Liam replied with annoyance. “His goons have been hounding Dad for weeks and they haven’t found a thing, because there’s nothing to find!” 

“Look, I’m the last person Ayo’s sending. If I find nothing, then it’ll be dropped.” Sole assured him. “If you’re Dad’s innocent then I’ll find the proof.” Liam shrugged, letting her in.

“I don’t see what the big deal is, I mean, it’s not like the Institute is going to run out of synths anytime soon.” He muttered as she went to the terminal. She booted it up and looked over the files. There was an interesting article about Synths preference for Fancy Lad snack cakes, some chess simulations and- Remote access from this terminal to the SRB._ So the plot thickens._

“You just missed Eve,” Liam continued, oblivious to her findings. “She went out to bring Dad lunch.”

“Eve?” Was all Sole could ask as she stood up again. 

“Yeah, the Institutes first personal synth. Dad wanted to run a social experiment to see if a synth could integrate into a family environment. So far so good.” She’d completely forgotten Eve. They’d passed each other a couple times, but never really spoke. _Guess I had a couple new leads..._

“I’ll be off now. At least things are looking good for your Dad.” She said as she went to the door. 

“Finally, some good news.” Liam sighed in relief. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

It was getting late, and she was exhausted. She needed to turn in for the night. Except she had a sinking feeling her room would be occupied. Maybe she should just talk to her son. She hadn’t seen him in days, he was always too busy. This next phase in the Institutes plan was taking up all the time that wasn’t already taken up by his medical treatments. 

She sat in the cafeteria, sipping at a nutrition packet. It tasted like chicken, maybe. The smell of smoke wrinkled her nose.

“Are you waiting on company?” Dr. Carrington asked, pulling out the seat beside her. She shook her head tiredly. “Given all you’ve been through, you actually look remarkably chipper.” She looked up at him, he was smiling with sympathy. Something felt different. 

“That kids had a good influence on you.” She noted in approval. 

“The child, yes.” He coughed, looking away. “He is quite… Well our project is a welcome diversion.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty good.” She nodded, a tired smile on her face. 

“I’ve heard you had a Courser reassignment,” He brought up the topic gingerly. She glared at him through bloodshot eyes. “I had a feeling that may have been the problem.”

“It’s not just that, Ayo has me on some assignment...” She mused, rubbing her head. “Someone is reassigning surface teams with flight risk synths...” 

“Oh?” He asked, taking a drag on his cigarette. 

“Yeah, got some suspects… Just wish X4 would give me the space to look deeper.” She continued, closing her eyes. 

“I imagine you would be invested in bringing them to justice.” He noted, tapping some ash on to the floor. 

“Something like that...” She muttered, resting her head on her hand. Oh Atom, she was tired. 

“I’ll let you know if I find anything.”He said casually. “If you tell me how you know Stanley.” That threw her off, but she was too exhausted to react.

“He’s a friend.” She answered, opening her eyes, and trying to telepathically transmitting the context. _I met him in an organization trying to burn yours to the ground._. 

“And Amari?” He asked softly. That did take her by surprise. “My daughter...”

“She’s doing well for herself.” She replied, not daring giving anything else away. 

“Shaun and I, we are planning a test of our bowling alley.” He said suddenly, voice raising again. “It’s tomorrow, care to witness it? We could discuss your problem further...” 

The last sentence was said under his breath. She nodded. 

“In the meantime...” She asked, “Do you know anywhere I could grab a free bed? My room is, uh, taken.” 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

She didn’t have to explain a thing he gave her directions through the service tunnels. There was some old synth barracks, they’d be dusty, but it wasn’t likely occupied, and she could lock the door. 

Her feet trudged over the tiles, echoing through the empty halls. She miraculously found the barracks, stumbling in and locking the door behind her. The place was covered in a thick coat of dust and grime, but it was still cleaner than the ‘Wealth. She collapsed on a bed, and fell into a dreamless sleep. 

Blissful, restful, dreamless sleep, for the first time in too long.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

Day 13

She woke up, cold. There hadn’t been heating in this room since it fell into disuse. Now that she was awake, she noticed some other bunks had been disturbed more recently.

Guess it was the perfect place for people who wanted to be left alone, or be alone with someone else… She yawned, stretching out on the bed. She needed to get up, but she wanted to stay there, safe. Alone. 

She sighed, sitting up. Her body ached, she could feel every nerve running under her skin. Her meds we’re back in her room. She would need to be focused today, couldn’t have her aches distracting her. She had to find the leak in the Institute. She had to find Patriot.

Sole hauled herself to her feet, groaning as she did. Synth beds were not easy on your back. She made her way to the door, switching off the lock so it could slide open.

There was a nice quiet to these deserted halls. Almost felt like she had the whole world to herself. 

She stepped outside into the empty hallway, only to find it not empty.

“You know, you shouldn’t abandon your bodyguard like that.” X4 mused, leaning against the dingy beige wall.

Her Combat shotgun was in her room, all she had was a dinky little laser pistol. She backed up, keeping her eyes on the Courser. “If you disappear like that, I’ll have to assume you had a _nasty_ accident.” He stayed there, he didn’t need to advance on her, she had nowhere to run. She swallowed. She didn’t even have V.A.T.S. to help make her pathetic energy weapon less useless. She was running out of ideas. 

“Well, I’m here, so you can run along now. Go kick some puppies, or steal some babies.” She retorted, trying to sound more confident than she felt. 

“Tempting,” He purred, tapping his fingers against his crossed arm. “But no, I think I’ll stay. Make sure you make it back to your quarters in one piece.” He flashed a smile that sent a shudder down her spine. 

She was sick of him. Sick of the intimidation, the taunts, all of it. She wasn’t going to let him get to her anymore.

She started back towards the main lobby, passing him as she went. He followed closely. Too close.

“Better be careful, X4, people will think you’re sweet on me.” She shot over her shoulder. 

“I don’t think I have to worry about that.” He chuckled. “Everyone knows you have a type.” 

“You’re right,” She agreed, catching him by surprise. “And how does it feel knowing you don’t live up to those standards?” He faltered for a moment, before continuing his stride. 

“Didn’t think anyone would admit to a lapse in judgement like that.” He taunted, but his words were a little uncertain now, lacking their usual bite. She smirked.

“Hardly a lapse,” She continued. “Someone with his record? His stature? And let me tell you; It’s always better fucking someone with something to prove-“ She ducked just as a blow flew to the side of her skull, his fist connecting with the aluminium panel wall. He hissed in pain, but swung again, she sidestepped him with ease. All the Courser programming in the world meant nothing when you’re blind with anger. She was nearly at the lobby now, he couldn’t do shit in front of other people. He knew it too, and he cut through his rage just to focus his movements. She tried to make a run for it, but he caught her by the throat, crushing her windpipe. She gasped for air, clutching at his hands. 

“Something to prove, huh?” He asked, watching her struggle. He slammed her into floor behind them, she gasped and spluttered for air. “How’s this for something to-“ Then the sound of footsteps echoed towards them, two sets of footsteps. Giggling as they went.

“-See, I told you I would reschedule our date night.” 

“Shhh, not so loud! You don’t want a-“ They rounded the corner to see X4. The. Couple stopped dead, their mood officially killed. They didn’t even notice Sole slip away, holding her neck as she scurried to freedom. Winning wasn’t always about killing the other guy, some days it just meant living to fight again. 


	5. Into the Wolves Den

Sole dashed into her room, shutting the door behind her quickly, gripping the handle tightly as she got her breath back. When her heart wasn’t juddering out of her chest, she locked the door to her room, took her meds, and grabbed her Combat shotgun; No more aches, no more helplessness. 

She slipped on the Institute sweater that had been set out on her desk for weeks, adjusting the turtle neckline so it covered more skin. It was something she thought she’d never have to wear. But bruises meant questions, questions she couldn’t answer.

Besides, it would make her look all the more like the dutiful Institute Matriarch everyone wanted her to be...

Thinking about that made her sick, she had to put aside for now. She had a job now. Sole had to figure out why the Binet terminal had remote access to the SRB. She took a deep breath. It meant heading into the wolves den, but if it panned out, she’d be closer to finding Patriot.

\------------------------------------------------------

She reluctantly returned to the Synth Retention Bureau. She didn’t like how much time she was having to spend here already. Ayo was in the next room over, planning out Courser movements and scavenging teams. A stroke of luck, since she had to investigate his closely guarded terminal. He would have to check into the access logs to find any trace of the remote access. 

She did a quick sweep for public asshole number 1. X4 was nowhere to be seen, _ for now_.

She sat down at the desk, logging in via her director login, easily over-riding his meager defenses. No file would be hidden from her. But she had to hurry, so there was no time to investigate his dark secrets, at least this time. 

Her stomach turned, some of the access logs included reports from X6 on his reclaimed synths, her name written into many of them, along with praise for her work. She skipped through them, working through the rest of the log. However nothing stood out to her, no sign of the remote access. All local log ins. 

She took a breath. Logs could be altered. Where could they be altered though? There were some logs about maintenance, small arms and such. Those also seemed to register as local. Maybe there was another terminal connected to this one. It made sense, it’s not as though Ayo would let Courses log their reports on his own personal terminal. 

Out of curiosity, she went back to the logs concerning missing synths. If the logs didn’t pan out, she could do some detective work on the ground. Maybe the Railroad was swiping synths on surface work on the sly. She looked down the log, mostly the sites they vanished from were quarries and areas outside the Commonwealth. Except one site that caught her attention. Somewhere South of Boston Common synths kept going missing. 

She looked into it,_ why would the Institute send teams here if they kept losing synths? _The system kept spitting out entries at her with the same message _**Data Redacted**_. It looked as though they hadn’t sent anyone there for a while though...

“Looking for something, Ma’am?” A voice asked, chilling her to the bone.

“Simply doing due diligence.” She replied innocently, swiveling the chair to face X4. “I figured if there’s nothing wrong, there’s nothing to hide. Besides, I was just leaving.” She went to stand up, but his hand gripped the head rest of the chair, almost pinning her to her seat. She ignored the way her stomach turned and rested her hand on her combat shotgun.

“Hold on, we’re meant to be _partners_ on this. Remember?” X4 purred, slowly letting go of the chair. She stood up, glaring at him. “Unless, you want me to tell Ayo you’d rather investigate this alone.” He raised an eyebrow. “Can’t imagine why...” So that was his plan. Get her to bail on him, raise suspicion on herself, maybe get her kicked out or killed in the process.

“Of course, tag along if you want.” She answered through gritted teeth. “Just doing some boring recon work.” She had an idea of how to solve two problems with one solution. First step would be to take him out of his familiar territory. She took a breath and gave a forced smile. “First step will be to investigate where these synths are going missing.”

\------------------------------------------------------

They relayed into the Wasteland with a crackling flash, Sole squinted from behind the tinted glass of her helmet; She hadn’t seen the morning sun in awhile. The last time she’d been to the ‘Wealth it had been evening.

X4’s solar lenses compensated for the light disparity, in just a few blinks he was right as rain. _Why couldn’t they have installed that in me? Why do the asshats get all the good stuff?_

“So the last few crews have been disappearing here...” Sole muttered, glancing at her wrist where once her Pip-boy had been. No way to check her surroundings except with her eyes. “Wonder what was so important they'd risk sending more...”

They were South of Diamond city, waaay south. But far enough from the Glowing Sea that she wouldn’t have to think too hard about taking any rad-x. Work crews had been losing flight risks left right and center here. Sometimes entire teams...

“Is that important?” X4 asked impatiently, his eyes flitting between the shadows cast by the crumbling structures. She raised an eyebrow, someone spooked easy. 

“Could be. Might be raiders picking them off and taking their haul. Might be Mirelurks like what they got on ‘em.” Sole mused. “Maybe they’re harvesting Deathclaw eggs.” She noted a shudder go through the Courser. She smirked, looked like someone wasn’t very cocky when they weren’t 60ft underground.

“In the Courser file, the scavenged items were… classified...” X4 replied slowly, more than a little unnerved. Sole wasn’t fazed; The Institutes toilet paper inventory was classified. Nobody liked to tell anybody anything. A bit like the Railroad. Looking around, she saw some electronics stores. She figured they could have been collecting copper or circuitry. No shortage of use for that. She started down the broken streets, listening out for hostiles. 

“Could just be flight risks, but this looks like there could be valuable salvage...” She noted, finding most of the windows bare. A place like this would have been picked clean a century ago, so what was still worth getting here? Then she saw something up ahead, something shimmering in the sunlight. 

She wasn’t paying attention until she felt the chord beneath her foot snap. _shitshitshit_ A hand yanked her back just as a makeshift explosive detonated where she would have been. She watched in shock, still suspended by her arm where X4 gripped her, before dropping to the ground. 

“You oblivious idiot!” He hissed, getting out his plasma rifle. “Watch where you are going.” She scrambled to her feet in annoyance, cocking her combat shotgun. 

“Can’t help it,” She hissed back, “Something about you just shuts off my survival instincts.” They waited, back to back watching for any incoming hostiles… But there was nothing. Not even a comediacly placed tumbleweed. “Well, that’s just downright eerie.” 

“It’s unsettling to say the least.” He agreed, before stepping apart from her. 

“Oh now you respect personal space?” She scoffed. He was silent, maybe still listening out for footsteps, or the skittering of Mirelurks. Nothing. Something was wrong. “Don’t these crews usually scavenge quarries?” She asked, lowering her voice now.

“We usually have the previous Gens scavenging for things more labor intensive.” X4 explained under his breath, keeping his eyes on the surrounding ruins. “Gen 3’s are usually for semi-populated areas…” He inhaled evenly, trying to calm down his nerves. “It doesn’t look like we’ll find anything for our investigation here, we should-” Then they heard something in the distance. A breeze swept through the street and they heard… A windchime? A lot of windchimes… Sole had to investigate. X4 tried to grab her shoulder but she dodged his grasp and carefully slunk her way down the street, sticking to the ruins and wary of traps. 

The noise sounded like Wasteland music, lonely but beautiful. The soft _clink_ of metal against metal… Who was making windchimes out of-

She emerged from a crumbling store front to see the source of the noise. It took a few moments before the horror of what lay before her set in.

Before her was a large oak tree, long dead from the war. It’s sturdy branches were adorned with hanging metal parts, tied with care so they dangled just enough to brush against each other. They _looked_ a bit like metal light bulbs, but the dark staining spattered among them betrayed what they really were. She was frozen in place, staring at it. She didn’t even move when X4 approached her. He was struck by the sight as well. _At least we know what happened to the missing synths_ Sole thought, her eyes transfixed on the hundreds of synth components clinking softly from the dead branches. Amongst the small synth components, she recognized some of the larger Courser chips. No wonder X4 was so terrified.

Sole had to get a handle on herself. She brought him here so she could lose him, she couldn’t let go of her nerve just yet. She looked around, seeing a nearby hardware store, that seemed mostly intact. It looked promising.

“Well, better take a closer look-” Sole started, but hands shot out and gripped her arms, pinning her where she stood. 

“Do you know how many dead synths it took to cover that tree?” X4 hissed, real panic in his voice. She took another look at it, her stomach turning. It looked more like a weeping willow with all strung up with synth components, or a particularly macabre christmas tree. 

“A hundred?” She hazarded a guess, shrugging off his grip.

“412 synth components, and 14 courser chips.” He answered grimly. She turned and smirked at him.

“If you don’t feel as though you are equipped for this mission, feel free to head back now.” Sole mocked, already starting towards the hardware store. There was a hesitant pause before X4 silently followed her. 

She checked the door carefully for tension triggers before opening it a crack, checking again for trip wires and other traps. Finding nothing made her feel a little bit more on edge as she stepped in. It was dark and dusty, but she could see quite a bit of salvage. The shelves looked almost fully stocked with lightbulbs and circuit boards. It was any scavvers wet dream to see it all untouched. Most of it was still in its original box. 

If she had any intention of scavenging for herself while she was here, she would have stuffed three bags full, but she was only here for recon. Recon, and scaring off X4. 

She tread carefully through the store, spying a staircase to a basement. 

Now there** had **to be some messed up stuff in there. She caught X4’s attention with a silent hand wave, and then pointed at the staircase. His face visibly paled. Better yet, she could see some light coming from the stairs. Someone might be down there. 

She hid a grin as she traipsed towards the staircase, noticing a trip wire just at the first step. _Not this time, asshole_ She thought, and stepped carefully over it. Only as her foot came down, there was no step to place it on. _shitfuck_ Her stomach lurched as her leg disappeared into the staircase, and her ass fell straight on the aforementioned trip wire, snapping it. She felt something sharp brush her dangling leg, and she yanked it out of the gap in the stairs, narrowly missing a sharp blade that snapped down where her leg had been.

She lay there, gasping for air, legs pulled up to her chest as her heart pounded in her ears. X4 stood beside her, smug, but still annoyed. She rubbed her leg, there was a sharp cut in the material, blood seeping down her leg. _Shit. I’m such an idiot._ She took some bandage from her med-pack, and rolled up her pants leg to bind it quickly. 

“Perhaps now we can postpone our field work?” X4 asked, an amused spark returning to his voice. _I will die before I admit you are right. _

“Nah, this means we’re getting somewhere.” She insisted, tying off the bandage. He frowned, crossing his arms. “I’ll bet the answers we need are just down here.” She hauled herself to her feet, leaning against the doorframe before heading down the stairs. 

The light got brighter, at least they wouldn’t be exploring the basement in pure darkness. She was careful now, checking how firm each step was, wary of trip wires and pressure plates. This was just the kind of place that would have one of those bullshit exploding bathroom scales. She listened out for any other movement from below. Nothing. 

Finally she was at the bottom, and what met her was… A showroom. Brightly lit displays of Mannequins in various outfits. They were set out all over the basement level, some set in front of washer machines, others seeming to be sat around a TV. One was in a kitchen setting, apron over their outfit, folding a bowl of fancy lad snack cakes. In all, there were 14 of them. All wearing Courser coats. 

“Impossible...” X4 breathed, surveying the showroom. “I thought…” He moved forward slowly, examining the the Mannequin closest to them. It had a black Courser coat, but in a different style. Subtle differences in the seams, materials… Must have been an older model. 

“Looks like somebody has a hobby...” Sole noted flippantly, looking around for any obvious traps. X4 was still frozen in front of the mannequin, a colourful pink apron draped over the Courser suit, holding a teal bowl full of packaged snack cakes. It would have been funnier if X4 wasn’t in front of it, having some kind of crisis. "You’re not being very professional right now, X4.” She continued with a casual shrug, “You are aware of the operating risks of being a Courser, so were they.” There was a moment of silence, her hands were already on her combat shotgun, just waiting for an excuse to blow him to pieces. Add another suit for this sicko’s collection, who ever they were. 

“This is-_was_ a B series Courser...” X4 breathed, oblivious to Sole’s attempts to pick a fight. “Over fifty years old… They stopped using these suits thirty years ago...” Killing synths for over thirty years? Now_ that’s _dedication. “Ma’am, do you understand the gravity of our situation?” Before she could answer, there was a breathy, crackling voice over an ancient inner-com.

_ “Brother, you don’t know the **half** of it.”_ That got their attention. There was a raspy laugh over the speakers. _ “Haven’t had a couple of chrome domes make it this far in awhile… I was starting to think the Institute had stopped making ‘em with any sense.” Sole glanced at X4, seeing if he’d make a comment, but he was too absorbed in the situation. The voice seemed to bounce around the room, changing from speaker to speaker. It was distracting to say the least. _ “I’m almost curious how much further you can get. You know, before you go _offline_. Might even make it to the sewers. Been too long since the Rad-Gators had a solid meal...”_ Then the lights started to go out, starting at the back. The lightbulbs blinked out, the darkness encroaching on them. _

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“X4, did they install a flashlight in you?” Sole asked, fumbling in her own bag for something to use. Her hand came to rest on something that would work in a pinch. 

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“In their wisdom, the Institute neglected to do that.” He replied through gritted teeth, charging up his plasma rifle, the glow of the barrel gave some light. It only took a moment before the only lights left were the fluorescent lights above them. The rest of the showroom was cloaked in darkness.

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“Smart, leaving these on stops our eyes from adjusting to the darkness...” X4 mused, begrudgingly impressed. “Be vigilant Ma’am.” _The terror must be over-riding whatever protocol makes him a bastard._ Sole thought, reaching in her bag for her emergency flare. X4 noticed, eyebrow twitching. 

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“Ma’am, what are you doing?” He asked in a low voice, eyeing the _flare_.

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“Shedding some light on the situation.” She said with a thin smile, _flare_ in one hand, lighter in the other. She flicked the little flame. The voice crackled over the inner-com.

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_** “What are you doing?” **_ The voice sounded incredulous. Sole held the flame close to the _flare_... Well, not a _flare_, more like a **molotov cocktail**. __

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_ _“This place is covered in gasoline, your little stunt will blow you **sky high**_ **!”** _ ** X4 and Sole exchanged glances. **

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**“So, I shouldn’t light this?” Sole asked with a smile, looking towards the last source of the voice, letting the flames of the lighter lick dangerously close to the rag of the molotov. “And I **shouldn’t** throw it wherever I feel like?” There was a silence. “Awful nice collection of trophies you have here, hate to watch them all burn just to light our way….” The lights blinked back on, she snuffed the flame on the lighter once more. “Much obliged.” **

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**She replaced the molotov back in her bag, glad that by some miracle it stays upright at all times. **

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“That was reckless Ma’am,” X4 commented as they picked their way through the showroom. There were quite a few traps to avoid, tesla arcs, trip wires, swinging blades…. Things that would have killed them in the dark. “How did you know he’d relent?” 

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“These outfits are decades old, but they look pristine.” Sole explained. “Like polished trophies. He wouldn’t want all that work undone… Especially if it means he gets you as well.” 

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“Ah, another to add to the trophy room...” X4 mused, hands unconsciously going to fix the collar of his jacket. “Was that you plan?” Sole stopped short, not far from the next stairwell. “You couldn’t have picked this place by accident.” She hesitated. It’s true, she had hoped he’d have some kind of _accident_ here, she’d nearly forgotten that in all the excitement. Sole swallowed and continued on, she didn’t need to answer him. 

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She got to the next stairwell, checking it carefully. Just as she imagined, there was a bathroom scale, and a few bouquets of grenades. Looked like this guy saved all the explosive stuff for this section, far enough away to keep his trophies unscathed. She carefully disarmed every trap, nimble fingers and a screwdriver undoing all the psychopaths hard work. There was a sharp, impressed, whistle over the inner-com.

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_ “Manipulative **and** good with explosives? If you weren’t a filthy synth I’d marry you today.” _ X4 bristled, watching her reaction carefully. 

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“You’re in luck then, you got yourself one bona-fide human being here.” She replied through gritted teeth, not sure if he’d hear her. There was laughter in response, hoarse forced laughter. 

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_“So they got ones that lie to themselves now? What will those quacks come up with next?”_

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He wasn’t wrong. She’d lied to herself for awhile. Did X4 know she was lying? Could he tell she knew the truth? More reason to get rid of him… 

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At the bottom of the stairwell were three long hallways, each winding away out of sight. Another trap to be sure. 

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“Let’s split up,” Sole said, examining each hall. The one to the left seemed just as good a place to head as any. X4 cleared his throat just as she started that way. She turned with impatience. “Do you have a better idea?”

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“I can’t allow you to go alone.” He said with irritation. 

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“I’m a big girl, X4.” Sole argued, “I can take on a demented funhouse on my own.” There was a twitch above his eyebrow again, which he massaged away with a hand. 

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“You...” He took a deep breath, so many insults on the tip of his tongue, but he gritted his teeth together and continued, “You… are _right_.” He muttered with reluctance, fists clenched with restraint. “I will go forward.”

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He started on a stiff march forward. _Maybe I broke him?_ She thought, turning to her left. The hall was pretty standard issue for an underground tunnel. Probably another pre-war secret underground government facility, like the one the Railroad used to use, or like Vault-tec frequently made. 

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The walls were a greyish beige, the paint chipped and flaking in most places. The floor was a tiled linoleum, water damaged in places. _This must lead to that sewer the guy was talking about. Hope he was joking about the Rad-gators…_ The hall was lit with grated fluorescent lights, some flickering from age, others burned out. She felt better now that she was alone, lighter. She spotted some laser trip wires coming up, pausing to look for whatever they triggered. A tesla arc hung just above her, obscured by a fluorescent light. _Clever…_ She disarmed the laser tripwires, then the tesla arc. She had enough materials to make a few traps of her own. That was something to keep in mind when she finally found this guy… 

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She rounded the corner to find a dead end. _ Now what… _ This was probably a trick. Maybe there was a passage somewhere…

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_“So, a real human, huh?”_ The voice crackled to life near her. She felt her frustration grow. _They give you a name?_

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“Sole.” She replied, running her hands over the wall in front of her, checking the seams in the runner and corners.

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_ “Sole, huh? Not even trying now, are they?” _

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“Well, I... I actually came up with that name.” She admitted, knocking on the wall now, listening for a hollow spot. “Couldn’t really stand my old name...”

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_ “You got a family then?”_ He pressed further, “Got a loving spouse? A kid? Parents?” She pursed her lips. _ “Just what I figured.” _ Finally she knocked on the wall to her left and heard something hollow. There was something behind this one… She checked the runner along the ground, and found some of the linoleum tiles loose. She pulled it back to find a switch. She smiled with satisfaction. Now all she had to do was activate it… But from a distance. No way to know if this is another trap. 

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She reached into her bag, backing away, and found a few bits of scrap metal. Heavy enough to activate the switch, and there were enough in case it took her a couple throws. She took the first one, throwing it underhanded, with a high arc…. It missed by a fraction of an inch. _Ok, this time for sure. _ She reeled her hand back, ready to throw the second one, when an explosion jolted her out of her concentration. It sounded close, but muffled through a few walls. _X4_. Her stomach twisted. Was she free? Was he dead? She turned back, already walking back towards the intersection. She could leave now, she could go back to the relay point and wait for a pick up… Pungent smoke was coming from the middle hallway, blanketing the end from view. Her heart leapt, until a blackened figure emerged, a gas mask over their face. They took it off as she approached, revealing the soot stained face of X4, coughing slightly.

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“Try and restrain your relief, Ma’am.” X4 muttered, coughing to clear the smoke from his lungs. She looked away, the disappointment on her face obvious. “I imagine you found a similar device on your end.”

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“I think so, I had the foresight to not activate mine, though.” Sole replied with annoyance, she’d never admit he’d inadvertently saved her life. “I can’t imagine we’ll have much luck that way either.” Sole thumbed over to the right hallway. “Guess we’ll head back.”

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_ “Leaving? But you’ve only just come in? Why not stay awhile...” _ A steel grate came down behind them, blocking the stairs. 

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“I mean, we can get through _that_.” Sole said, raising an eyebrow at the source of the voice. “I’ve disarmed enough explosives to blast out of here.” There was a chuckle, before the floor fell out from beneath them. 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually didn't think this would get as much attention as it has! So I figured it deserves an update. Than you guys for all your support!!


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